The Trials of a Lioness
by LeggoMyMeggo92
Summary: "Why do you care so much, mate? You've been rescuing her since the beginning of the year." "She's our friend!" "Friend or friendly friend?" George raised an eyebrow at his brother suggestively. "Sod off..." Eventual Fred/OC. Rated T for language and adult situations.
1. Trauma on the Hogwarts Express

**Hey All! This is my first Harry Potter fic, and I'm excited to share it with you all! I've got most of it written, so please review to let me know if you all want me to continue!**

 **I do not own Harry Potter. It would be friggin' awesome if I did.**

 **Enjoy!**

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Hazel Herrod was choking for air. Her father, Daniel, was holding her tight against his chest. Even after five years, he still had a difficult time letting her onto the Hogwarts Express. With the recent escape of Sirius Black, which had even the Muggle populace on alert, he was even more loath to let her go.

"And you will write to me every week." He stated. It was not a question.

"Yes, Dad. I will." She replied, mostly to placate him and get him to release her. It was 10:58.

"Daniel, let the poor girl go, she'll miss the train!" her grandmother, Renatta, said, pulling on Daniel's shoulder. Daniel begrudgingly agreed and kissed his daughter's forehead while she shot her grandparents a thankful look.

"Love you all! See you at Christmas!" She yelled over her shoulder.

As she boarded the train, golden-brown ponytail bouncing behind her, Daniel turned to his in-laws. "You really think she'll be safe?" He asked as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

"Of course she will be, Daniel. Only a Muggle like you would ask that." Angus snorted as he and his wife turned and walked toward the portal back into King's Cross.

Hazel found the nearest window and waved to her father, her heart leaping into her throat as the train lurched into motion. She was off to her fifth magical year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and not even an escaped mass murderer could bring her down. She settled into an empty compartment, placing Leia's basket next to her and opening the door. Her brown tabby cat stepped out, stretched, and immediately started grooming herself while Hazel dove into a first edition of _The Princess Bride_ , a gift from her father.

Half an hour later, the door slammed open and her classmates Fred and George Weasley, burst into the compartment followed shortly by Lee Jordan, interrupting her as she was just learning of Westley's love for Buttercup for the umpteenth time.

"Ah, Herrod, there you are!" one of the twins exclaimed, sitting down next to her and throwing an arm over her shoulder.

"You were looking for me?" she asked, not taking her eyes from the page. Leia had jumped at the entrance of the boys and curled up in Hazel's lap, glaring at them as they sat down.

"No, not really. Just an open compartment is all." The other twin said as she greeted Lee.

"Make yourselves at home, then." She said quietly, going back to her book. A second later, however, she found herself staring at her lap as the twin sitting across from her had snatched it away.

"The Princess Bride! Fred, check this out!" he exclaimed, inspecting the cover before passing it to his brother. The boys laughed, making fun of the girlish title of what was, in Hazel's well-informed opinion, one of the greatest stories ever told. She would know, too, as her father ran Herrod's Rare and Collectible Books just off of Coney Street in York, and had for many years. She helped out on breaks and over summer, and had read an impressive number of the thousands of books in the small shop.

"So it's some ridiculously sappy love story with words like 'quivering' and 'tender' and 'mayhaps'?" Fred asked, taking the book and flipping through the pages. Hazel snatched it back and held it tightly to her chest.

"It's actually much more than that, but I don't expect you lot to understand or care. Has anyone seen Allegra or Veronica yet?" Hazel rapidly changed the subject to the whereabouts of her best friend.

"Nope. Haven't seen them." Fred said simply.

"Yes we did! Allegra was snogging Eric Cahill a few cars down, been snogging all summer those two have," revealed Lee. Hazel's eyes widened at the shock that Allegra had kept something like that from her, but kept her mouth shut. That would likely explain the radio silence from Allegra all summer. She would find her friend later and demand an explanation.

"And Veronica?" Hazel inquired.

"She was in a compartment with Cedric Diggory and some other Hufflepuffs." Lee said dismissively. This didn't surprise Hazel, as Veronica and Cedric had been carrying on a flirtation since third year. In her opinion, they needed to make their minds up or she was going to spike both of their pumpkin juices with Amortentia.

"Right then, chaps, I think it's time for some top secret planning. Hazel, do you mind?" George said, motioning for her to leave.

"Not at all. You three can leave at your own leisure, I'll be fine here alone." She smirked back; "Don't worry, I won't go telling the Head Boy on you so long as you let me read in peace."

"Agreed." The three troublemakers said in unison. Hazel went back to her book, stroking Leia's fur every now and then (for the cat had fallen asleep in her lap). Eventually the trolley came by and Hazel bought some pumpkin pasties while the boys continued their hushed conversation. Leia moved back to her basket after a half-hearted attempt at getting Fred to pet her.

The sky outside seemed to darken abnormally quickly Hazel noticed as it started to downpour outside. She ignored the sound of the rain, until she was thrown from her seat as the train came to a complete and sudden stop.

"Bloody hell-?"

"Aargh, Fred, your elbow is in my gut!"

"Ow! My head!"

"Is everyone alright?" Hazel asked, pushing herself into a standing position from where she landed next to Lee. She picked up Leia's basket and, seeing her cat's eyes were wide and round with fear, closed the door to prevent an escape.

"Yeah, probably just some mild brain damage – " Fred said as he stood. Before he could finish his thought the lights flickered and went out, leaving them in near total darkness. Hazel sighed and pulled out her wand.

"Lumos," she said, illuminating the tip of her wand and providing ample light for the small compartment.

"Suppose we've broken down then?" George postulated, going to the door and looking through the glass to see what was going on. He tried to open the door, and other students had the same idea, but all of the doors seemed to be locked from the outside.

"We must've. Why else would we stop before we got to Hogwarts?" Hazel asked no one in particular as she sat back down and righted her things. As she bent down to retrieve her bookmark off the floor she glanced up at the window and noticed thin ice, almost clear in color, racing along the edges and spreading upwards onto the glass. Her breath now hung in the air as it only did in winter. She sat back down and tried not to shiver too violently.

"What is happ-?" Fred started asking, but Hazel threw her hand over his mouth to silence him. She doused the light on her wand and put a finger to her lips, letting the others in the compartment know to be quiet. Then she heard it.

A faint, almost undetectable sound was coming from the hallway, like a cotton sheet gliding against a wooden floor. It was slight, but it was there. Hazel's breath quickened and her heart started hammering against her chest as they caught sight of the hooded shadow of a dementor as it glided by their compartment. It paused outside their door and looked in, tapping its skeletal fingers on the glass, which, now nearly frozen, made a dull cracking noise that made Hazel whimper in fear. The dementor looked away down the hall as if distracted by something.

Fred slowly moved to put an arm around her shoulders and the dementor, sensing the movement, snapped its head back. Fred froze, arm in midair, as if they were playing the world's deadliest game of Merlin Says. Hazel trembled against the cold, her heart spinning in her chest now, her stomach churning. A moment more of staring and the dementor floated away. Hazel glanced about the compartment and noticed that Lee's face had gotten considerably paler and Fred and George's expressions seemed frozen on their faces.

Hazel could not think about anything else than the look on her dad's face as she walked away from him on the platform earlier that day, or the feeling she had leaving her Muggle friends and school behind, or the guilt she felt every summer lying to them. Her entire relationship with Ewan had the lump of guilt lurch in her stomach as she remembered the day last week when she had left him sitting all alone in the tea shop after breaking his heart. The gaps between her two lives seemed permanently irreconcilable.

Her mother's face, one she had only seen in pictures, swam in front of her eyes. She had never known her mother, never known what it was like to have a complete family or a mother's love. It was a gaping wound in her life that reopened every so often, usually repaired with a long walk, a warm butterbeer, and a long chat with Allegra or Veronica. But now it felt like that void would never close; she would never be happy again.

As the dementor left and the lights came back on, Hazel burst into frantic tears. Fred completed his motion and let her rest her head on his shoulder. He noticed, out of the corner of his eye, that Lee was also wiping away a few stray tears. Shooting his twin a look to make sure he was okay, Fred began stroking Hazel's back. He was more accustomed to Ginny crying on his shoulder than he'd like to admit (mainly because he and George usually caused it), so having Hazel there didn't feel horribly awkward.

After the train staggered back into motion the compartment door slid open and Percy, Head Boy and Obnoxious Git, entered.

"Was anyone in here attacked?" he asked curtly, getting straight to the point and pointing around with his wand.

"Someone was attacked?" Lee queried, having regained his composure. Hazel was still buried in Fred's favorite Zonko's t-shirt.

"No, I was just making sure no one was. Head boy duties and such," he said pompously before noticing Hazel, "Ah, take this. I have it on good authority that it helps combat the effects of a dementor…encounter." He handed Fred a bar of chocolate.

"What am I supposed to do with it? Rub it on her head?" Fred asked, feigning stupidity to annoy his older brother. Of all the Weasley boys, Percy was by far the most reactive, which made him the all-too frequent victim of Fred and George's attacks.

"No, you dolts, have her eat some. In fact, you should all eat some." Percy hissed before leaving the cabin before the twins were able to rile him up any more. He had important things to do before they arrived at Hogwarts.

Fred passed the chocolate to George, who broke it into four equal pieces and passed them around to the others. Hazel had to be coaxed, but eventually raised her head from Fred's chest and took the chocolate, nibbling on one corner and staring out the window blankly at the passing countryside.

She could feel the chocolate start to work, seemingly warming her from the inside, much like the effects of firewhiskey. She took bigger bites until her chunk was gone. Despite their efforts to get the conversation started again, the twins and Lee were met with silence from Hazel. This was partly melancholy and partly embarrassment. The four in the compartment were all friends, but Hazel had always made it a point to never let anyone see her cry, let alone the Weasley twins who were famous for taking the mickey out of everyone and anyone. When she cried, which wasn't often, she would do so in the privacy of her four-poster bed with an Imperturbable charm cast on the closed curtains.

The second the train stopped at Hogsmeade station Hazel bolted from the compartment and out onto the platform to avoid talking to the boys. She shuffled along with all of the other students toward the carriages and got into one, tuning out the conversation of the fourth-years she was sharing the ride with. After she dropped her things in the designated area she scanned the Great Hall for Allegra's ink-black hair. Catching sight of it over by the Hufflepuff table, she dashed over to her friend.

"Allegra, we have to talk!" She said grabbing Allegra's elbow and dragging her away, into the nearest girl's room.

"Hazel! What is wrong with you? The feast is about to start!" Allegra protested as Hazel pulled out her wand and locked the door.

"How could you not tell me about Eric?" Hazel demanded, pulling her hair out of the ponytail and running her hands through it.

"What's this about Eric?" Veronica said, entering the bathroom as if she hadn't a care in the world. "Oh really, Hazel, if you're going to lock the door use something that doesn't respond to 'alohamora'," She said, fluffing her chestnut hair in the mirror and responding to Hazel's look of shock. "What are we gabbing about then?"

"Allegra and Eric seem to have reconciled over the summer and someone didn't think it pertinent information."

"Oh Christ." Veronica muttered.

"I never said that!" defended the Hufflepuff, "How did you find out, anyway?"

"Fred and George and Lee. Lee actually said that you two had been snogging all summer. What's the deal? Last I heard you two hated each other." Hazel leaned against the sink, staring down her raven-haired best friend. They all three had met on the train to Hogwarts in first year, and were heartbroken they had been sorted into different houses. Hazel and Veronica went to Gryffindor, Allegra to Hufflepuff. However, this didn't affect them as much as they thought it would. They saw each other in classes and spent their free time in each other's common rooms or dormitories.

Eric Cahill was a sixth-year Hufflepuff whom Allegra had grown up with, as they lived in the same village. He was a Pureblood and Allegra, like Hazel, was only half magical. After the death of Eric's mother, Eric's father began espousing Pureblood supremacy propaganda that Eric then repeated to Allegra. He didn't agree with his father's ideals, but understood and supported his father all the same.

This drove Allegra mad and they stopped speaking for the entirety of last year, save for the occasional snarky, below-the-belt comment. And now they were together? Hazel didn't believe it.

"Yes, well, Eric came to his senses this summer. Realized his father was full of shit and doesn't deserve Eric's support. He wrote me a long letter apologizing about how he had acted and how much he loved me. How he had always loved me…." Allegra pulled on the sleeve of her uniform and used the excess length to coyly cover the smile on her face.

"We wrote you letters too. Why didn't you mention any of this? Or, hell, even respond? " Hazel asked quickly, as she could hear high-pitched first year voices ascending the stairs outside.

"Yeah, we wrote you plenty but it was like you'd fallen off the face of the earth. What gives?" Veronica pushed, standing next to Hazel as a united front. Hazel could feel her confidence bolster as the two lions stared down the badger.

Allegra let out a long sigh, as if she had been holding her breath for a long time. "I thought you would judge me for it. I mean, you two listened to all of my angry rants about Eric and helped me come up with creative ways to remove his head from his body…I thought you would say that I was being stupid for getting close to him after all he did to hurt me."

Hazel wrapped her arms around Allegra's shoulders. "I would never judge you. Take the mickey, yes, but never judge. If Eric makes you happy, I'm happy for you." She revealed, voice rising suspiciously.

"And you, Veronica?" Allegra asked, knowing Veronica wouldn't sugarcoat her answer like Hazel did.

"You're being an idiot. But when this all blows up in your face we will be right there to help you through it. There, I said it, let's go to dinner." Veronica said lazily, looking at Allegra over the brim of her horn-rimmed glasses before moving toward the door.

Allegra playfully slapped her friends' shoulders as she passed, wading through the first-years and back into the Great Hall. Professor McGonagall was just pulling out the stool and Sorting Hat as Hazel sat between Oliver Wood and Alicia Spinnet while Veronica settled on the other side of the table next to Lee Jordan.

"Hi Hazel, good summer?" Oliver asked. Hazel grinned and nodded at him as the Sorting Hat began to sing his song.

"Yeah, and yourself?" she said, angling her body toward him and away from the events on stage.

"Pretty good, yeah, got a whole new game plan this year we'll win the Cup for sure!" Oliver bragged in his Scottish brogue that many of the girls at Hogwarts found absolutely irresistible. Hazel, however, was perfectly able to resist his charms. Oliver was handsome, to be sure, but his head was stuffed with naught but Quidditch.

"Can't wait to see it." She said only half-genuinely. She didn't really care for Quidditch, or sporting events of any kind, and usually only attended the Cup games at Hogwarts.

"Ha! You've never been to an inter-house game and you know it!" Oliver scoffed.

"You've noticed?"

"How could I not?" He flirted, nudging her with his elbow. Hazel nudged him back and glanced pointedly at the head table, where Professor McGonagall was giving them a sharp look as she waited for the Sorting Hat to finish. Hazel put a finger to her lips and shushed Oliver. She noticed that the shabby-looking man in the Defense against the Dark Arts spot at the head table was also watching her closely, but with a look of wistfulness instead of the look of disapproval she received from her head of house.

All told, the sorting was uneventful. Dumbledore's speech introduced the shabby man as Remus Lupin, the new DADA professor, and cautioned against giving the dementors reasons to attack.

"Just remember: happiness can be found in the darkest of times, if ones only remembers to turn on the light." He concluded before beginning the feast. Hazel immediately reached for some mashed potatoes and a roasted chicken breast. She poured herself some pumpkin juice from a flagon in front of her, catching the Weasley twins out of the corner of her eye. They were sitting with their brother, Harry Potter, and Hermione Granger about twenty feet down the table.

She noticed Fred Weasley occasionally glancing her way, which made a blush rise on her cheeks. She finished her meal quickly, stopped to ask Percy the password, and headed up to the Gryffindor common room.

Hazel had always loved the Gryffindor common room, as it was the place at Hogwarts that most reminded her of home. She and her father lived in a small, cozy flat above his shop that they had painted in rich, warm colors and filled with old, lumpy furniture that one had to practically punch into shape before getting comfortable.

The Gryffindor common room, with its squashy furniture and roaring fireplace gave Hazel a comfortable, calm feeling whenever she entered it. It was a safe, warm place perfect for curling up with a book. After the excitement of the day and the anxiety that was still gnawing at the edges of her mind, Hazel could think of nowhere else she would rather be. Since most people were still at the feast, she was basically alone in the wide, round room. She bounded up the stairs to her dormitory, grabbed _The Princess Bride_ and, back in the common room, settled into her favorite chair in an alcove and let the words of William Goldman absorb her thoughts.

An hour later her fellow Gryffindors started trickling in, but Hazel didn't move. No one would see her unless they were specifically looking for her, which they wouldn't be. Veronica would probably be waylaid in the Hufflepuff common room for a while yet, and none of the other Gryffindor girls would bother her.

"Still reading that rubbish?" a voice asked from above her, making her jump out of her skin. She turned and saw Fred Weasley leaning over the high back of the armchair, smirking down at her. She avoided his gaze, a blush forming on her cheeks as she muttered her assent.

"You are expertly avoiding my lustful gaze, Hazel, may I ask why?" Fred asked, moving around the chair and sitting in the armchair opposite her. He rested his forearms on his thighs and continued to stare her down. She gave in and raised her eyes to his.

"There, happy?" she said sarcastically.

"Very." He said, the smirk still playing about his lips as his translucently brown eyes gazed into her blue ones.

"Why are you staring at me?"

"Just waiting for an apology." He joked. Neither one had broken the stare yet.

"An apology?!" Hazel was genuinely shocked. What has she ever done to him?

"Yeah, you got mascara all over my favorite Zonko's shirt." He jested. A bemused look settled over her features as she sat back in the chair. She broke the gaze and picked up her book again.

"Well send me the dry cleaning bill." She muttered coolly, trying to find her page. Fred reached out and put his hand on her knee.

"Hey, I'm just taking the mickey. It's really not a big deal." He patted her knee and she shot him a nasty look. "Not one of us got through that encounter on the train unscathed. Lee ran into the loo after the feast and upchucked his whole dinner. George hasn't regained his peaches and cream coloring yet. You just had a more...immediate reaction is all."

Her face softened and she closed the book once more, "Well cheers, Fred, but it was still embarrassing. I mean, I don't think anyone in this whole school has ever seen me cry, much less blubber like a small child." She avoided his eyes again, instead looking down at her book, tracing the embossed title with her thumb as Fred continued to stroke her knee.

"Can't say that now, can you?" he smiled and she caught his eyes again, smiling in spite of herself.

"No, I guess not."

"We're alright, Herrod. We aren't going to tell anyone."

"Thanks, Fred." She whispered, putting a hand on top of his. They stayed there a moment longer, Hazel noting how warm Fred's hand felt under hers and Fred noticing how much he liked the weight of her hand on top of his.

He cleared his throat and retraced his hand, pushing himself into a standing position.

"Much obliged, Hazel." He said, giving her a small salute before shuffling away.

"Hey, Fred!" Hazel called, peering over the back of the chair. Fred stopped and looked back at her expectantly, "You never told me your side effects."

Hazel watched his eyes darken as he said, "Guess we'll just have to wait and see."


	2. The Charms That Bind

**Chapter 2 has arrived!**

 **I do not own Harry Potter, I only own my OCs.**

 **Quick shout-out to BananaBubbles98, Cmnewman, and salmonellie for the Follows! And extra good vibes to BananaBubbles98 for the review!**

 **Please read, review and follow! The more reviews, the more eager I am to post!**

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September went on for what felt like forever to Hazel. Since they were to take the Ordinary Wizarding Levels the following June, their professors were piling on homework like it was going out of style. September bled into October, and Hazel was in the library late one night, trying to catch up on her Potions work that had been neglected in favor of perfecting a new charm. She wrote frantically, mind racing at a million miles per hour as she explained the finer details of Drexel's Theory of Plant-Based Elixirs and their applications to the Draught of Peace.

Across from her sat Allegra and Eric, their noses stuck in their books but their hands tightly entwined on the table between them. Every once in a while Hazel would catch them glancing demurely at each other. Over the last weeks, the solid lump of jealousy that had formed in Hazel's chest had hardened into a rock. It was clear that they did have real feelings for each other, and Hazel was truly happy for them.

However, this relationship had diverted a majority of Allegra's attention from Hazel. It used to be that they were in either one's common room together multiple times per week, but Hazel had only been to the yellow-and-black decorated common room a handful of times this term. And when she was there, Allegra seemed to be glued to Eric's hip. When they were apart, Allegra filled Hazel's mind with anecdotes about her and Eric's summer adventures or a funny thing Eric said in Potions the other day. While she was happy her friend had found someone, she was also very jealous and annoyed that he seemed to monopolize all of her time.

Veronica and Cedric had begun seeing each other, but Veronica hadn't abandoned her like Allegra had. Perhaps because they still shared a dorm and all of their classes. They saw each other every day, and had talked about how Allegra had seemingly lost herself in Eric. Veronica was the Gossip of Gryffindor, destined to be the next Rita Skeeter if she wasn't careful, so Hazel had kept up with the comings and goings of her distant friend.

Back in the library, Hazel heard Eric mutter something to Allegra, and Allegra whispered something flirty back, gently biting Eric's earlobe. With this, Hazel had reached her breaking point. The growing stress of homework and Allegra's continued absence and the O.W.L.s had finally worn her down.

"Oh for Merlin's sake you two! Go find a classroom to snog in already! Either that or shut the hell up, I'm trying to get this done, not listen to you two tongue-fuck each other's ears!" she yelled, throwing her arms out so rapidly she spilled her pot of ink.

"Shit!" she muttered, moving her notes as quickly as she could. Allegra tried to help, but Hazel shooed her away and magically cleaned up the mess. "Just go!" she yelled again, and the couple disappeared. She looked over her notes, and found that her potions assignment was completely ruined.

She dropped her head onto the wooden table, letting out a long groan that was full of self-loathing.

"Hello Hazel." A familiar voice said. Hazel turned her head and saw Oliver Wood leaning against the bookshelves nearby. He had changed out of his school uniform and was wearing a Puddlemere United t-shirt under a blue plaid flannel shirt. His jeans were well-worn and faded, and a cocky smile was on his face.

Hazel turned her face back toward the ground and said, "Oh, bugger off Wood."

"That's not very polite." He teased, sitting down in the chair next to her and placing his bag on the floor.

"I'm having the worst month of my life. I'm constantly buried with homework, I can't talk to my best friend without her boyfriend right there, and now, I've probably just made her hate me. I'm stressed to the max, and I have absolutely no one to really talk to because my other best friend is also preoccupied with her new boyfriend." She confessed, lifting her head from the table and running a hand through her messy hair.

"You can always talk to me, y'know."

"Really? How do I know your mind won't drift off to the Quidditch pitch while I'm speaking?" she said dryly.

"I swear on my Starsweeper, you've got my full attention." He swore, sitting in the chair next to her and facing her.

"Oh I'm very reassured. Now if you could solve the rest of my problems, that would be very much appreciated." She sniped as she tried to rearrange her papers from all the chaos of the past minutes.

"Hey, you two will make up." He reassured, nudging her arm to get her to look at him. She threw him a glance and rolled her eyes. Oliver knew less than nothing of what Hazel was going through, and resorting to lame platitudes was something for which she didn't currently possess the patience.

"I know that, but…I don't know." She said, trying to think of a spell to clear the ink off of her essay.

"What?"

"Look, I'm happy for Allegra and Veronica. Really, I am, but I guess I'm just…jealous." She mumbled, avoiding the Keeper's eyes.

"Jealous of what?" He asked, rubbing her back in an effort to comfort her. Oliver, in his seventh year at Hogwarts, had his N.E.W.T.s that year and had promised his mother he would get at least four, which is why he was in the library that night instead of on his broomstick. As the youngest of four and the only boy, Oliver was an old hand at comforting women.

"That they've got someone. I know it's a bit petty and I should be comfortable being by myself, secure in my own person – and I am, but I can't help but think that all of this…school stuff what with exams coming up and being away from home and…I'm babbling. I'm sorry. You can leave now and let me wallow in my own embarrassment." She prattled like a chattering howler monkey.

"No, no I understand. Sometimes it can get lonely here. Having someone to hang with outside of your friends can help with that." He sympathized, continuing to rub her back. He was no cad, but he couldn't help but feel that if he played his cards right he could get a good snog out of Hazel. That, as he knew very well, would help ease his own tensions as well as hers.

"Cedric and Eric are monopolizing all of their time! I miss my best friends, dammit!" she ranted, feeling the anger rise again like bile in her stomach. Instead of letting it overtake her like she did last time, she took a long, deep breath and calmed herself. "But I am happy that they're happy. I want them to be happy. They deserve to be happy."

"Say happy one more time and I'll believe you." He smirked, placing his arm on the chair back. She shot him a bemused look, then took out her wand.

"Scripto restorum." She said, waving her wand at her potions essay. The black ink that she spilled on it melted away, leaving nothing but her almost-finished essay. She turned to Wood and smiled.

"I've never heard that one before." Wood commented.

"That's because I just made it up." She boasted. She had been reading about charm theory all summer in preparation for her O.W.L.s, but also because Charms was her best subject.

"You made up a spell?"

"Uh huh."

"Just like that?" he was incredulous. This girl had just whipped up a spell out of thin air and it had worked. No one in his class, or possibly even the whole school could do that to his knowledge.

"Just like that. I've been trying to do it for the last month, and I've come up with some pretty cool spells. Mostly for dumb stuff like taming my hair and cleaning my dorm and such. Nothing major yet." She said modestly, never having been one to brag about her accomplishments.

"That's…bloody amazing." Oliver marveled.

"What's amazing is you're save on that double assault in the Gryffindor Slytherin game last year. The way you ride, Oliver, is truly amazing." She complimented him. That was the only bit of Quidditch knowledge she possessed, as that was the only Quidditch game she attended last year. Mainly because of the attacks on students, but also because her feelings toward the immensely popular sport were lukewarm at best.

"Thought you didn't like Quidditch?" He flirted.

"I pick things up here and there. Plus, my grandfather said that if I can get six or more O.W.L.s he'd get us tickets to the World Cup next summer." She said excitedly.

"Six O.W.L.s? That's a tall order." Oliver commented, resting his cheek on his hand on the table in front of them.

"I'm not too worried about it. I'm a good exam taker. And besides, they're what, eight months away? I'm just trying not to get buried under the pile of homework!" she exhaled, motioning to the pile of papers and books in front of her.

"Yeah, N.E.W.T.s aren't a whole lot better. Pretty damn stressful, and on top of all that I've got to win the Cup this year if I expect to be sought out by any respectable league team…" He raised his head and looked down at his hands in a very shy, charming way that made Hazel's stomach seem to fill with butterflies. At this point she noticed how close they were to each other. All she would have to do would be to reach a few inches and grab one of his hands…she shook her head slightly to clear that thought (and a few others) out of her head.

"You can do it. No one in this whole damn school loves Quidditch as much as you do." She reassured, reaching the couple of inches and grasping his big, calloused hand in hers.

"He looked at her small hand wrapped around his and sighed, directing his deep brown eyes toward her face. Hazel could feel a current pass between them, and she retracted her hand as if shocked, looking away and blushing.

"I'm sorry…I just…I have to go." she stuttered as she stood and gathered her books, shoving them in her bag and slinging it over her shoulder. Half-running, she bolted from the library and didn't stop until she got to Gryffindor tower. She climbed through the portrait hole and slammed her back against the wall adjacent, breathing heavily.

"Who're you running from, then?" George asked from his seat by the fire. She walked over and stood in front of the troublesome twins.

"If you must know, Oliver Wood." She admitted, tapping her fingers on the back of the armchair George occupied. They were playing a game of wizard's chess, and George was clearly winning.

"Strange, he usually has the opposite effect on women." Fred commented before moving one of his pawns.

"What'd he do?"

"None of your damn business. Either one of you seen my cat?" She asked casually, plopping down on the couch next to Fred.

"Nope. Should I tell her, Fred?" George asked his twin, taking the pawn with his knight, the knight growing two small arms and pitching the pawn off of the board.

"Go right ahead, George." Fred replied, a devilish, knowing smile crossing his face.

"Tell me what?" Hazel asked, furrowing her brow.

"Do you realize what house the one you so vehemently seem to be avoiding is in?" George said.

"And who, any minute now, might pass through that door?" Fred continued. It dawned on Hazel after a moment's thought and she swore colorfully, grabbing her bag and dashing up the stairs to her dormitory.

"Hey George?" Fred asked, his eyes on the spot on the stairs Hazel had occupied seconds before.

"Yeah, Fred."

"You reckon Wood tried anything…ungentlemanly?" Fred said suggestively, wagging his eyebrows at George. Something in his eyes, though, made George sure that Fred was asking a serious question.

"You know Wood. Of course he did." George joked, smiling at his twin's momentary lack of memory of their captain's antics. Many a locker room story had the boys heard of Oliver's conquests. Mostly tame, above-the-waist grabbing and heavy snogging, but the Weasley twins knew there had been a few instances of full-on shagging that Oliver wasn't keen on repeating. Oh, the broken hearts Oliver Wood had left in his wake.

A few silent minutes of wizard's chess passed before Wood crossed into Gryffindor's common room. The Quidditch players all shared casual hellos before George conquered his twin and leapt to his feet, raising his arms and declaring his victory for all to hear.

* * *

Hazel took to spending most of her nights in the library, trying to scale the mountain of homework she had because of her O.W.L.s, her stress level not decreasing at all. Oliver often joined her in the library the nights when he wasn't practicing or strategizing for Quidditch, and they would review together. They had developed a flirtatious rapport, but Hazel was intent on not letting anything romantic happen this year. She had to focus, and not on Oliver Wood's very sexy smile.

Allegra had been ignoring her since the incident, and took to partnering with Veronica in class rather than Hazel. The third time this happened, in Herbology the week after the incident, George Weasley came to rescue her from having to do the lesson alone as she had done in Divination and Transfiguration.

On this particular night, the Monday before Halloween, three weeks, one day, and twenty-three hours after Hazel yelled at Allegra and Eric, the inseparable pair showed up or, rather, slammed into the bookshelf next to Hazel, fingers entwined in each other's hair and tongues deep in each other's throats.

"Excuse me." Hazel said, clearing her throat loudly. They didn't seem to hear her or realize that they were not, in fact, the only people on the face of the earth.

"Excuse me!" she yelled, running out of patience as they knocked some books off of the shelf and onto her table. What little fuse she had had reached its end, so Hazel gathered up her things and pushed past them, but not before muttering, "aguamenti" under her breath and pointing her wand at the near-coupling couple.

As she rounded the corner she heard a splash of water on the floor and loud cursing from Allegra and Eric as they were soaked. She used her books to cover her smile as she left the library and proceeded to dinner.

As she helped herself to some shepherd's pie she caught Allegra and Eric enter the Great Hall out of the corner of her eye and smirked. She couldn't help but feel a bit haughty after bringing them down a peg. Knowing Allegra for as long as she had, Hazel had no doubt in her mind she had been showing off.

Allegra had always been more comfortable with herself than Hazel had, especially where boys were concerned. Allegra was direct whereas Hazel avoided confrontation. Allegra was passionate whereas Hazel was more subdued. So far, this had afforded Allegra quite a few paramours while Hazel had had two.

Alex McKinnon, a fellow Gryffindor, in their third year. They had barely kissed at the Halloween feast and spent the next few weeks shyly holding hands and sending each other love notes. In the end, Hazel was completely blindsided when he called it off. Veronica spotted him the next week with a Slytherin girl named Prunella Templeton at Madam Puddifoot's and promptly hexed him.

And, more devastatingly, over the summer Hazel had a romantic fling with Ewan Jenkins, one of her Muggle friends from York. They picked up hot and heavy at the beginning of the summer, to say the least. One night, after a particularly wild house party with her other Muggle mates, she and Ewan had gone all the way. This was shortly followed by Hazel realizing exactly how many lies she had to tell him on a daily basis. Lies about her school, her family, and her entire life outside of the twelve weeks a year she was at home with her father. It was all too much for her. What kind of relationship could they have when she went back to school? How would she explain having an owl deliver her letters and why they were written on parchment? How would she explain why her school didn't have telephones? She took him to Betty's on what would've been their two-month anniversary and explained to him that it was over.

That was yet another reason why she was so angry with Allegra. She had written to her many times over the summer, begging for advice, but heard radio silence from the girl she called her best friend. Luckily, she still had Veronica to rely on but since it was mostly along the lines of, 'quit your bitching and shag him while you can!', it wasn't exactly the most helpful advice.

Part of Allegra's silence, she assumed, was Eric's fault. Hazel watched them now as they crossed to the Hufflepuff table, leaving puddles of water behind them.

"Wonder what happened to those two." Angelina wondered as she sat down next to Hazel. Alicia and Veronica sat across from them.

"Fell in the lake, maybe?" Alicia pondered aloud. Hazel desperately wanted to take credit, but kept her mouth shut in a tight smile. Veronica shot Hazel a knowing look, but Hazel just shrugged and took another bite of Cornish pasty.

"Nah, they'd be much drier if they'd walked up from the lake." Fred Weasley observed as he slid in on Hazel's other side.

"Hazel, any ideas? Allegra is, after all, your best friend." George said.

"Yes, actually. She and Eric were going at it in the library and I thought they needed to cool off." She confessed as she took her last bite.

"You did not!" Angelina gasped.

"Well, we can't risk having all those books catch fire now, can we?" Hazel smirked. Fred and George looked immensely proud. Fred even went so far as to wrap Hazel in a tight hug, resting his chin on top of her head.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her voice muffled in Fred's jumper.

"I'm just so damn proud!" he said, voice breaking as if he were crying.

"Our little Hazel, all grown up and playing revenge pranks!" George beamed, ruffling her hair from across the table. She pushed Fred's arms off of her and swatted at George's hand.

"Yeah, yeah, shove off. I'm going for a walk, anyone care to join me?" Hazel asked, rising from the table.

"I will." said Angelina. Veronica also joined them. Together the girls walked out the great wooden doors, careful to avoid the puddles, and out into the courtyard. The sun was already gone and the night breezes held a definite late October chill. Hazel wrapped her school robe around herself a bit tighter as they approached the main gate. They were stopped by Filch, who informed them no students were allowed out of the castle after dark.

"Takin' extra precautions, you'd do well to respect them!" Filch snapped at them before they turned around and reentered the castle.

"Well, what do we do now?" Veronica asked as they meandered around the empty corridors.

"I don't really want to go back to the common room and I'm dead sick of studying. Want to keep aimlessly strolling? We can gossip about our classmates."

Angelina smiled, "Sure. I could use a little girl talk after nothing but Quidditch practice."

Hazel reached into her bag and extracted a small hip flask that she had filled with her grandfather's firewhiskey and flashed it at the other two girls, "And perhaps we can imbibe a bit?"

"Hazel Herrod, you little sneak! Where did you get this?" Veronica said, grabbing the flask and smelling it.

"I nicked a couple bottles from my grandparents' storehouse before the start of term. For special occasions, of course." She bragged. Hazel's grandparents lived in a grand old mansion fifteen miles outside of York. What appeared to Muggles as an old, decrepit barn on the property was actually a large distillery, where they made Nithercott's Finest Firewhiskey and had since 1785.

"Alright, guess who were found in an empty classroom on the fifth floor by none other than Filch himself!" Veronica said salaciously after taking a nip off of the flask. Always one for a good secret, Veronica had the best gossip.

"Who?" Angelina asked, obviously hooked.

"Lewis Jones and Stephen Hardwicke!" Veronica spilled, giggling like mad.

"No! I never figured them for being gay!" Angelina nearly choked on the firewhiskey. Veronica had a proud look on her face.

"Are you kidding, Stephen is much too pretty to be straight!" Hazel observed before taking a long drag from the flask and feeling the warmth of the whisky seep down into her stomach.

"Oh please, you said the same thing about Cedric." Angelina revealed, "And now look at him and Veronica, they're practically attached at the hip!"

"Or the mouth!" Hazel giggled. Even after the heavy dinner she had just eaten, the firewhiskey had started working its way to her head almost immediately.

"I resent that. I've been taking great pains to make sure Cedric and I appear to be a completely respectable couple." Veronica took another drag and passed the flask back to Hazel, who offered it to Angelina.

"When in actuality it's everything you can do to not push him into the nearest alcove and rip his clothes off!" Angelina laughed loudly.

"I mean, how could you _not_ want to rip Cedric Diggory's clothes off? I know I do!" Hazel said, earning her a look from Veronica that made her grateful looks couldn't kill. The chestnut-haired bespectacled beauty softened almost immediately, though.

"I won't paint too indecent a picture, but I will say that years of Quidditch have done him nothing but favors." Veronica bragged, winking.

"So have you two…you know…" Angelina asked suggestively.

"Have we what?" Veronica was playing dumb.

"Made the beast with two backs!" Hazel could fully feel the effects of the firewhiskey, as her gait became looser and her path became a bit more back-and-forth.

"Hazel, you should know that I am not one to kiss and tell!"

"Yes, but you're also not one to have sex and shut up!" Hazel teased, tugging on Veronica's braid. Veronica slapped her hand away and a bright blush rose in her cheeks.

"We haven't had sex yet. We _have_ gotten…handsy." She said, groping the air in front of her and shimmying her chest a bit in a way that made her companions laugh hysterically. The three tripped up the stairs, continuing to talk about their love lives. Angelina, apparently, had been flirting with a Slytherin sixth year that "wasn't at all like a Slytherin."

"Hazel, what about you?" Angelina asked after revealing she and Adolpho Rudesky had snogged after potions a few times.

"Oh, I've got no one special." She brushed off, trying to concentrate on staying upright.

"So then what's this I hear about you and Oliver Wood getting cozy in the library every night he doesn't have Quidditch?" Veronica countered, catching Hazel as she ran into her shoulder.

"Oh, that's nothing. Just some flirting to distract me from all my bloody homework." She explained as they turned down the corridor that led to Gryffindor Tower.

"That's not what I've heard."

"Oh really? What have you heard?" Hazel asked, a hint of curiosity in her voice.

"That the lovely Quidditch captain is smitten. He's thinking of asking you to Hogsmeade." Veronica revealed, looking at Hazel from over her horn-rimmed glasses suggestively.

"And your source?" Hazel questioned, not believing her friend.

"Roy Beckett. Y'know, short, stocky, dark hair, shares a dorm with Oliver?"

"Yeah, I know him." Hazel admitted, falling into silence as she thought about going to Hogsmeade with Oliver. Her stomach fluttered a bit at the thought.

The portrait of the Fat Lady was fifty yards down the corridor and the girls could hear her screeches that she thought passed for opera. They cringed as she tried to hit a particularly high note that was clearly out of her range.

Hazel looked over at Angelina, hands clamped tight over her ears, "Another lap?" she yelled. Angelina, with her fingers stuck in her own ears, nodded through a grimace and Veronica nodding assent. They turned away, striding away from the cacophonic noises of the Fat Lady.


	3. Unhelpful Insights and Wicked Decisions

**Hello All! Chapter Three is here!**

 **I do not own Harry Potter, only the OCs I created blah blah blah.**

 **Quick shout-out to Tigerlilli123, dracoisnoire43, jazzyjeff1410, and marielinot07 for the Follows! I think after this chapter, reviews will positively flood my inbox! Hazel is about to get herself into a tricky situation, but I won't spoil it! Please review and let me know what you think! I love hearing from my readers!**

 **By the way, this chapter contains Adult Content! You are forewarned!**

* * *

 _'My dearest Hazel,_

 _I regret that I have to write these words, and regret even more not having told you this in person. Be that as it may, I was visiting some friends at the Ministry and heard some disturbing news. It seems that Sirius Black is heading toward (or possibly already at) Hogwarts. Some think he is coming for Harry Potter, and that may be true, but I wanted to give you some rather pertinent information about the escapee in question._

 _You see, Hazel, my elder sister Waldburga married Orion Black in 1957. Their wedding was terribly dour, nothing but meaningless pomp and circumstance, but I digress. Waldburga and Orion were Sirius' parents. This makes him my nephew, your mother's cousin, and by extension your second cousin. While your grandmother and I never got on with my sister and brother-in law (they suffered the inflated egos of Pureblood Mania) he and your mother were in the same house and year at school. I'm not sure the extent of their relationship, but she never mentioned him so it is entirely possible they didn't know each other at all. That being said, be on your guard, Hazel, and don't venture off of Hogwarts grounds alone. Years in Azkaban have no doubt made him quite mad. I highly doubt you are the reason he is going to Hogwarts, but one can't be too careful when speculating the actions of an escaped mass murderer._

 _Business has been good and we miss you terribly! See you at Christmas!_

 _Love,_

 _Your Grandfather_

 _P.S. Don't mention this to your dad, yeah?'_

Hazel had to reread the letter three times and double check that the owl was really one of her grandparents'. She couldn't believe it. Sirius Black was her second cousin. She shared blood with a mass murderer. Her appetite suddenly vanished, so she wrapped some sausages and bacon in a napkin along with a few rolls and stuck them in her bag for later. She followed her feet out of the Great Hall and, blatantly ignoring her grandfather's warning, set off for her favorite tree by herself.

Whenever Hazel felt anxious or especially stressed, she found that a long walk helped clear her head. In York she would walk around the medieval walls that guarded the city center and marvel at the ancient beauty of her hometown. At Hogwarts she would usually end up by a particular beech tree down by the lake. With the events of the last few weeks, Hazel definitely needed some respite.

It being a weekend the path was a bit more populated than Hazel would have preferred, but her tree (and the area surrounding) was empty. She settled against the trunk (which was perfectly shaped to accommodate a studying student's back) and cracked open _A Tale of Two Cities,_ losing her worries about her row with Allegra and the confusing new revelations about her family tree in the prose of Charles Dickens.

After a while, a rustling sound caught her attention. It sounded as if something was approaching, so she called out, "Hello? Is someone there?"

Not receiving a reply she rose to her feet, "Fred? George? If you're in there…" she said as the sound got ever closer. Her palms became damp and her heart started to thud nervously against her chest as she reached for her wand.

She held it out in front of her, ready to hex anyone who came out of the woods. Her brain went straight to dementor. Instead, a large black dog tumbled out of the bushes. Hazel relaxed, as she had always had a way with animals. The dog looked up at her with eyes that were vaguely familiar to Hazel and whined. His fur was shaggy, but even with the extra fur she could tell that he was desperately malnourished. He had probably smelled the food in her bag, she reasoned. Maintaining eye contact, she slowly and deliberately reached for her bag.

She pulled out the napkin full of food and placed it in front of him, backing away and returning to her book. The dog watched her with head tilted before sniffing the food and gobbling it down. Hazel smiled and continued to read her book. The dog approached her, sniffing her cheek before kissing her with his dry, sandpapery tongue. She laughed and petted him, scratching behind his ears as he continued kissing her face.

"Alright, alright boy! Down!" she laughed, trying to push him away. He got down off of her and bounded into the forest, only to return with a stick as long as her forearm that he dropped at her feet before sitting down, wagging his tail expectantly. Hazel obliged and picked up the stick, throwing it into the woods. The dog ran after it and brought it back, dropping it at her feet again. This pick up game of fetch lasted a few more rounds before the dog was overcome by a sneezing attack.

Hazel giggled a bit at his expense, "Oh, Snuffles, you're too cute." She said, ruffling his ears as she picked up her bag. "Unfortunately, I've got revision to get to." The dog whined and looked up at her sadly.

"Don't look at me like that. It was fun, but I've got to go." She said regretfully as she turned and took a few steps down the path. The dog ran after her and gently grabbed her pant leg with his mouth, as if begging her to stay. Hazel could feel her heart melt for the poor animal as a chilly breeze came in off the lake.

"I'll be back tomorrow. I promise. Until then, Snuffles." She blew the dog a kiss, making a note to visit the kitchens that night. The house elves were very accommodating. At least, that's how Fred and George made it sound anyway, and judging by the armloads of food they came back with, they were probably downplaying it a bit.

On her way back towards the castle Hazel came across the Gryffindor Quidditch team heading back from practice. Most of them looked pretty beaten down, especially Harry Potter who seemed as though he were about to fall asleep.

"Hey there Hazel." Oliver said cheerfully, falling into step beside her.

"Hi Oliver. How was practice?" she asked.

"Excellent, as usual. Preparing for our match with Slytherin, it's going absolutely swimingly!" He beamed, "Actually I've been wanting to ask you something."

Hazel was curious, "Ask me something?" Was it possible that Veronica's rumor was true? She could feel her heart begin to hum in her chest.

"Yeah. Want to go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend?" He asked quickly, as if he were nervous about it.

"On Halloween?"

"Yeah, on Halloween."

"I guess. I mean, I've got some errands to run, but I could meet you at Three Broomsticks for a butterbeer?" she offered, wanting to make this as little of a date as possible.

"Alright. Meet you there around, say, around two-thirty?" He asked and Hazel nodded.

"It's a date." He said as they approached the castle.

 _Shit,_ she thought as she started to climb the stairs back to Gryffindor Tower.

"There's actually a post-feast party we can go to as well, if you're up for it." He mentioned casually, laying the groundwork for his most infamous move.

"I'll consider it. I've got O.W.L.s to study for, you know." She smirked, tossing her gaze back to him.

Oliver considered the matter addressed and watched as her honey-colored hair swished behind her as she bounced up the stairs. Smiling to himself, he followed her back into the school.

* * *

That week's classes were even more tedious for Hazel, so she kept trying to distract herself by imagining how the following Saturday would go. She would go to Hogsmeade with Angelina and do a bit of shopping (she could use a few new jumpers from Gladrags' and needed a few more ingredients for Potions class), then get a butterbeer at Three Broomsticks with Oliver before heading back for the feast. She'd eat a quick dinner, then head upstairs to change for the party.

The thoughts of the party, however, were the most distracting. What would happen? Who was going to be there? Were there games and what sort would they be? Hazel imagined getting dared to kiss Oliver during Doxies and Dragons (wizard's Truth or Dare). This thought caused her to break her only vial of Blood Replenishing Potion and earned her a hard-faced look from Professor Snape.

On Thursday night Hazel sat in the Common Room absentmindedly staring into the fire with her charms book sitting open on her lap. Her chin was in her hand, her elbow resting on the book as she imagined Saturday scenarios for the umpteenth time. Fred and George, not ones to leave their fellow students in peace, each plopped down on either side of her, effectively pulling her out of her reverie.

"Alright, Hazel, you've been distracted and dreamy all week…" said Fred, putting an arm around her shoulder.

"So we can only assume that you're daydreaming about one of us in a compromising position and smothered in chocolate." George continued, also putting an arm around her shoulders.

"So, out with it, which one is it?" Fred pestered.

"C'mon, we both know I'm better looking." George teased. Hazel, who was caught quite off-guard, immediately regretted the words that came out of her mouth.

"I was daydreaming about the party in the Astronomy tower Saturday night."

 _Great,_ she thought, _I'll never hear the end of this._

Fred shot George a doleful look and George extracted his arm so only Fred's remained. They couldn't hide the concern on their faces.

"What party in the Astronomy tower?" George asked.

"The one Oliver invited me to." Hazel said simply. The less information they knew, the less chance they could ruin it. The twins exchanged another weighty look over Hazel's head, and she noticed.

"What? Weren't you two invited?" she asked innocently.

"Hazel, there _is_ no party in the Astronomy tower." Fred said, his voice grave and his eyes darkening.

"What do you mean?" She looked between them to determine if they were sharing in some cruel joke. Of course there was a party, why would Oliver lie to her?

"That's just something Oliver tells girls so he can lure them into…" George explained, keeping his voice low so as to not attract attention.

"Lure them into what?" Hazel asked, shrugging Fred's arm off of her shoulder.

"Oliver tells girls that there's a party in the Astronomy tower and once she gets there, there's no party. He then goes into a long soliloquy about how much pressure he's under and how when he's with her he feels better…so that they'll…how shall I say this and remain a gentleman? Fred?" he said, passing the torch to his twin.

They had suspected Hazel was Oliver's next target for a while now. He was a great captain and a nice guy, but was known in the locker room as a bit of a lothario. How had Angelina not warned her about him? He would share the bawdy tales with his male teammates, who would usually laugh and joke about it. This time, George knew, was different. Oliver usually went for girls in his own year, occasionally going a year above or below, but targeting Hazel was damn near out of line.

"Uh…to…put his quaffle into her hoop?" Fred explained, shrugging at George who had shot him a confused look.

"Get her to ride his broomstick?" George said.

"Have her beat his bludger?"

"Catch his snitch with one hand?"

"What? Oliver wouldn't do that!" Hazel said, clearly catching the Quidditch-related euphemisms.

"Oh, yes he would. He does it a few times a year."

"With girls stupid enough to fall for it."

"And his interest in you is rather sudden."

"And he's been checking out your ass every chance he gets."

"I think our Oliver's Lecherous Looks count is up to, what Fred?"

"Oh, in the twenties, most definitely." Fred said, a grave hint to their jokes.

Hazel was shocked. Oliver's interest in her was just so he could get in her knickers? He was looking at her lecherously? Their moments in the library had felt like a real connection, Fred and George were wrong about him.

"So you're saying that Oliver's interest in me is only because he wants to shag me?" she asked, offended at the suggestion.

"Only if you're stupid enough to fall for it."

"He thinks I'm that type of girl?" she asked, putting the pieces together.

"Yes, exactly." They said in perfect unison.

Hazel sputtered for an answer, a retort, an explanation, anything to deny their assumption. However, she had more than a sneaking suspicion that they were right. She bristled and stood suddenly, excusing herself and running up the stairs to her dorm.

* * *

Saturday came quickly, much to Hazel's relief. She just wanted the day to be over, as she had decided she wasn't going to the Astronomy Tower, which would be admitting that the twins were right. She pushed her thoughts about what Fred and George had said to the back of her mind. She would ask him outright at the Three Broomsticks later. Her limbs felt jittery at the thought of her impending date with Oliver, but she did her best to ignore it as she walked down to the village with Angelina.

They went into Gladrags and Hazel scored some extra-comfy new jumpers (a red v-neck that she would wear to the Quidditch games she actually bothered to attend, a navy one that Angelina said brought out her eyes, and an extra-large beige one for lounging in) and bought some extra parchment from the stationery shop. There was an awkward moment as she saw Fred and George exit Zonko's with Lee Jordan in tow. They tried to wave her over, but she ignored them and diverted Angelina's attention to the window display at Tomes and Scrolls. She had dodged them successfully for a full day, she didn't want to give in and tell them they had convinced her not to go just yet.

Angelina left her outside the Three Broomsticks as twenty-five past two and headed back up to the castle, citing an overdue Astronomy assignment. Hazel bid her farewell and entered the warm pub, her eyes scanning for Oliver. She caught his eye and he waved her over, two butterbeers already in front of him.

She could feel her palms get sweaty and nearly tripped over her feet a few times on the way over, but managed to arrive without incident. Oliver jumped up and pulled her chair out for her.

"Quite the gentleman." She commented as he sat back in his chair.

"I try." He said, taking a sip of his butterbeer and glancing around nervously. He was wearing an oatmeal-colored wool jumper that clung to his well-formed chest and arms in the most painfully distracting way. Hazel realized she was staring and flicked her eyes to the bar.

"So…" she said, her mind frantically searching for something to talk about.

"You look really great today." He said, bringing his eyes to rest on her face.

"Really?" she asked disbelievingly. She hadn't told Veronica or Angelina that this was a date, but they had both insisted that she put on a bit of makeup and try to tame her hair. In the end she threw it up into a messy bun and thrown on her dad's old Uni zip-up and a pair of jeans.

"Yeah, well, you always look good. Guess I'm not used to seeing you out of your school uniform." He said.

"Me either. You look good as well." She leaned back and unzipped the hoodie. It was suddenly very warm in the pub and her face grew hot. She took a drink from the mug in front of her and sighed.

"What's your shirt say?" Oliver asked after a beat, pointing to her shirt. She moved the hoodie out of the way to reveal her The Doors t-shirt.

"The Doors. It's a Muggle band."

"You're a Muggleborn?" he queried nonchalantly.

"No, half-blood. Mum was a witch but she died when I was little. My dad raised me as a Muggle until I got my Hogwarts letter." She explained lightly. What she had left out was that her mother had left Hazel and her father shortly after she was born to fight You-Know-Who and was killed during a rescue mission. The only people outside her family who knew that were Veronica and Allegra, and she intended to keep it that way.

"That's cool."

"Can we talk about something real?" Hazel asked, annoyed with the idle chatter.

"How do you mean real?" Oliver was confused, his brow furrowing a bit.

"I just absolutely can't stand small talk. It is the most mind-numbing thing in the world. So let's talk about charms or Quidditch, or Snape's abnormally large nose but dear god if you mention the weather I'm going to lose my mind!" she said, the words spilling out of her faster than she intended.

Oliver laughed, "Alright. You still haven't told me why you're so good at charms."

They talked for about an hour, their chairs inching closer and closer together until their butterbeers were drained and new ones ordered. They were each sitting on one side of the corner of the table, their heads conspiratorially close.

" _Three_ older sisters?" Hazel asked in disbelief. Wood struck her as more of an only or at least eldest child.

"Yep. That's why I'm so charming and sensitive." He explained gallantly.

"Well, that definitely explains it." Hazel leaned back in her chair, casting her glance toward the door just as Fred, George, and Lee walked in, throwing their armloads of goods in a booth and meandering over to the bar to harass Madame Rosmerta.

Hazel's light heart sunk as she remembered her friends' warning about Oliver. She was having such a good time with him that she didn't want to bring it up, but knew she had to.

"So about this party tonight…" She led, turning her attention back to Oliver. His cheeks were flushed, as he had ordered a firewhiskey since he was of age, and he gaze was a bit unfocused. He was a bit tipsy, Hazel could tell from the goofy look on his face as he answered her.

"Yeah?"

"Is it just a ploy to get in my knickers?" she asked outright, seeing no reason to beat around the bush.

He sighed, "Not necessarily."

"What does that mean?"

"Do you fancy me?" he countered. Hazel was caught off-guard.

"I-I think I do, but -!"

"How did you find out?"

"Fred and George told me about your usual moves, I'm wise to your game Wood! A most apt name, might I add!" She started to get out of her chair, but his hand on her arm stopped her.

"Look, it never goes farther than she wants it to. I'm not a cad, Hazel. It's just…stress relief." He said, pushing a stray curl out of her face, "and if you don't want to do anything besides talk, that's completely fine. I…I fancy you, Hazel."

His face was innocent and Hazel desperately wanted to believe him, but she couldn't believe she'd almost fallen for his tricks. She knew there was a reason she had resisted his charms for so long. She stood quickly, knocking her chair backward as she gathered her bags and stormed out of the pub.

As she headed back toward Hogwarts, she encountered Allegra who requested to speak with her. Heavily annoyed, Hazel agreed to hear her out.

"Look, I just wanted to say I'm sorry. Eric is sorry too. We know we've been a bit obnoxious and we're sorry for distracting you while you were studying." She said quickly, like she was ripping off a bandage. Hazel stopped dead in her tracks.

"That's what you think this was about? You _pestering_ me while I was _studying_?" she asked incredulously.

"Well…yeah, what else could there be?" Allegra's vibrant green eyes flicked around nervously. Hazel could tell she knew exactly what was really wrong but didn't want to admit it, hoping that Hazel would just forgive her.

"Where were you this summer?!" Hazel yelled. "I needed you! I needed your advice, and what did you do? You ignored my letters for your fucking _boyfriend_! Which, I might add, you've been doing all term too. Veronica has a boyfriend, yet I see her every day!" First Oliver admitted to trying to seduce her, now this? What a great day, Hazel thought bitterly.

"Your letters? You mean those pathetic, whiney pieces of parchment that flooded my bedroom? For Merlin's sake, Hazel, it's like you forgot how to function on your own! Every damn day, another letter!" Hazel was grateful for the emptiness of the path, as she wanted this conversation as private as possible and it was heading in an uncomfortable direction.

"You're exaggerating! I had an urgent, pressing problem - !"

"Oh, yeah, your 'problem'!" Allegra snarked, using air quotes. "Oh, Allegra, please help me, I'm fucking a Muggle! How unfair of me!" she mimicked cruelly. "We both know that you fucked that Muggle because you couldn't handle a real wizard."

Hazel looked as if Allegra had just slapped her and took a step back. "Who…are you? Where is Allegra Stormhaven?" she asked quietly. For all of her tempestuousness, Allegra had never insulted Hazel like that. Hazel never thought she would sink that low.

Allegra scoffed, "You're all talk, Hazel. Maybe I just got sick of listening."

And with that Allegra turned on her heel and strutted away, leaving Hazel absolutely gobsmacked. She could feel her eyes welling up with tears, and a large lump forming in her throat. She caught the sounds of approaching voices on the wind and brushed the tears away, walking briskly back up to the castle.

* * *

Hazel skipped the feast that night, instead heading straight up to the Astronomy Tower. Allegra's words still ringing in her ears, she had decided to take action. Her experiences with Ewan had left her with an itch she desperately wanted scratched, and this was like killing two doxies with one spray of poison. She'd prove Allegra wrong and, hopefully, rid herself of some of the stress of the last few weeks.

If Oliver was still going to show up, that is. She had left a note for him on the door of his dormitory explaining that she had overreacted and she would be waiting for him. Just to talk, she had claimed, but she had something completely different in mind.

She was wearing her shortest flippy skirt and a top that was perhaps too low-cut to be considered "school-appropriate". She regretted this decision as she stood in Hogwarts' most windy spot, goosebumps rising on her arms and legs. She remained undeterred though, and waited there until half past nine, when Oliver showed up.

She heard him shuffle up the stairs and stop. "I got your note."

She turned to him and walked over, swishing her hips a little extra to make the flippy skirt sway a bit more than usual. Her stomach was tight with nerves and anticipation.

"I'm glad you did." She said flirtatiously. He smelled faintly of firewhiskey and Hazel assumed he had stayed and had a few more drinks after she stormed out on him.

"So…" he exhaled and Hazel's suspicions were confirmed. "You wanted to talk?"

Hazel lowered her eyelids and shook her head, "I was thinking more along the lines of…stress relief?" she sidled over to him and looked into his amber eyes, watching as they caught her meaning. A smile twisted across his face.

"I think we can do that." He said. Hazel's heart leapt up into her throat as he closed the distance between them. He lifted a hand to stroke her cheek, the wind pushing her waves against his hand. He brushed them away and replaced his hand with his lips, moving along her jawline tantalizingly before crashing into her lips. He kissed her hungrily, roughly, so that all reason was knocked out of her.

Hazel kissed him back just as roughly, running her hands through his hair and pressing herself against him. She wanted to physically feel the anger she felt inside. She pushed him against the wall, pulling at his scarlet button-down shirt until the buttons popped off. He moved his kisses down her neck and brushed his hands under her shirt over her hips, up the sides of her body, coming to rest on her upper back which only served to pull her closer.

"That was my favorite shirt." He said into her neck angrily.

"I'm not sorry." She retorted, untucking his undershirt from his jeans and letting her hands explore the hard muscles that lay underneath. She let out a moan as his mouth went back to her neck and started descending toward her breasts as his right hand deftly unclipped her bra and wiggled underneath it. His left hand was tracing small circles on her inner thigh.

It was at this point that Hazel started to get an uncomfortable ache in her stomach. This felt wrong. Why was she here? Because she needed the validation of being desired by Oliver Wood? Surely she wasn't that kind of girl. Yet here she was, about to do the deed with a boy she didn't have any particular feelings for. Overwhelmed with something she could only describe as disgust, Hazel violently pushed away from Oliver.

He looked confused to say the least. "What? Was it something I said?" he joked, his trademark charming smile crossing his lips.

Hazel stood a safe distance away from him, "I'm sorry Oliver. I can't." she gasped, leaning on the railing.

"C'mere, Herrod." He said gently, holding out the hand that had just been groping her breast. For a second Hazel considered taking his hand and proving Allegra wrong. Taking his hand would prove that she was a woman of action, not just words. The thought of her former best friend being right ignited an inferno inside of her. Or was that the feeling of his eyes staring at her like a ravenous wolf?

She knew herself. She wasn't going to be all talk anymore.

She grasped his outstretched hand.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! Reviews and Favorites much appreciated!**


	4. Fallout

Hazel regretted it the second her clothes were back on. Without waiting for him to say anything, she ran from the Astronomy Tower and dashed back toward the common room, but found the hallway crammed with people moving toward the Great Hall. She waded through the crowd and found George and Fred.

"What's going on?" she asked over the dull roar of her fellow students.

"The Fat Lady's gone!" George explained.

"Gone?"

"Well, they found her, but she's saying that Sirius Black is in the castle!" Fred said. "We're all spending the night in the Great Hall."

"He's in the castle!" Hazel's face blanched, realizing what could've happened that night instead of what _did_ happen. She wasn't sure which made her stomach churn more.

"Where were you? We didn't see you during the feast." George commented. Hazel brushed him off, changing the subject abruptly.

"Are we safe in the halls with Black on the loose?" She said offhandedly.

"No, you're not getting away with that this time. There's an escaped murderer in the castle, where the bloody hell were you?" Fred grabbed her arm roughly and stopped her in her tracks.

"I was…in the astronomy tower…" she muttered, avoiding eye contact.

Fred dropped her arm and looked shaken to his very core. "Oh…so, you were there with Wood?"

"Yeah. I was. What of it?" She muttered as she pulled her arm out of his grip and walked away, not waiting for a response.

"Just didn't figure you for one of _those_ girls." Fred shouted after her spitefully.

Hazel paused, but rather than turn around and admit that he was right she kept walking and, when she got to the Great Hall, put her sleeping bag as far from the twins as possible. She ended up tossing and turning next to the wall next to Veronica, who would not shut up. Apparently, the whole faculty was scouring Gryffindor tower, and then the entirety of Hogwarts grounds. She had heard that the Fat Lady would be replaced by another painting, but she hadn't heard anything about which yet. After a while of Veronica's non-stop chatter, Hazel pushed her pillow over her ears and turned away.

* * *

The next day, the rumors of Hazel's tryst with Oliver spread around the school like wildfire. After one too many unwelcome propositions from some unruly peers, Hazel withdrew into herself, trying to push the memory of that night out of her mind. Oliver tried to talk to her, but she avoided him at all costs, even going so far as to hide behind a tapestry after he tried to chase her down.

She didn't want to talk to anyone about what happened with Oliver or the letter from her grandfather. She made herself sick just thinking about it. Nine days passed with her friends constantly asking if she was okay. She would smile and nod, but nothing more. Around the tenth, Veronica started tailing her wherever she went, often with Cedric in tow, asking incessant questions about everything from the weather forecast to Hazel's upcoming birthday.

"Is there anything you're absolutely dying to get for your birthday?" she asked one sunny Saturday as they sat in the library. Hazel was trying to focus on faking her dream journal for Divination.

"Yes." She answered simply.

"Oh really? What? I'm sure whatever it is we can get it owled in!" Veronica brightened, this being the first question she had answered all day.

"I would _love_ to get away from you." Hazel slammed her book and stood, grabbing her coat and heading outside into the November chill. She made her way to the beech tree by the lake and scanned the bushes for Snuffles. Not seeing any sign of her shaggy friend, she sat against the tree and again attempted to concentrate on Divination.

However, the thoughts kept coming back, as they had for the last few days. She had proved Allegra wrong, but at what cost? She was related to a man who killed thirteen people and was terrorizing the wizarding world. She had led Oliver on, and gone much too far too fast. She didn't know who she was anymore, and felt lost with no clue as to how to get herself back. So she threw herself into her studies and tried not to think about how absolutely disgusted she was with her actions.

She had told all of this to Snuffles, only feeling a little ridiculous in sharing her innermost thoughts with a stray dog. However, he was an excellent listener and was always quick with slobbery, affectionate kisses or a patch of fur for her to cry on. Probably because she would visit the kitchens and bring him veritable feasts with every trip.

On this particular day, she had managed a couple choice slabs of steak and some large carrots for Snuffles to chew on. They were all carefully wrapped in paper in her bag, and if the dog didn't show, she would leave them in a hollow in a nearby oak tree. However, after a few moments the dog came bounding out of the woods, barking happily and licking her face. A smile cracked on Hazel's face; this was the only one of her friends that wasn't going to judge her.

"Hello Snuffles. You're going to love what I got for you today." She said, opening her bag. The dog shoved his face into it, sniffing around and salivating heavily at the smell of the steaks as she retrieved them.

"You have to sit! Sit, boy!" She unwrapped the paper and held them out of his reach and he sat eagerly, his tail twitching behind him. She slowly placed them in front of him on the ground and he looked up at her with large, pleading eyes.

"Okay, good boy!" she said, releasing him. He ran at the steaks, ripping into them without a second thought. Hazel petted his back as he ate and went back to her dream journal.

When he finished, he licked her face and settled down next to her, curling up next to her for warmth. She stroked his head between his ears as he napped. A group of Ravenclaws stumbled out of the woods, laughing and joking with one another and a knot tightened in Hazel's stomach.

She knew it was unfair for her to shut her friends out like she had been. She just didn't know where to start with them, but she knew that at least three of them would be at Quidditch practice and, checking her watch, that it was almost over. She gathered up her things, bid Snuffles a farewell and tossed him the carrots as she walked away toward the Quidditch pitch.

* * *

Their captain noticed that Fred, George, and Angelina were very much off their game at practice the Saturday before their match with Hufflepuff. Since Malfoy's arm was "still healing" Slytherin had asked to forgo their match with Gryffindor. Oliver, and indeed the entire team, was stressed about the change, as they had spent the last few weeks focusing on how to defeat the Slytherin team, not Hufflepuff. McGonagall had just told them that day.

"Weasleys! Where are your heads at? Get the bloody bludgers away from my bloody chasers!" Oliver yelled from his position in front of the goal posts.

This was the fourth straight hour of Wood yelling at them. Fred had had enough and flew over to Wood, getting as close to his face as possible.

"Hey Wood, why don't you ride your fucking _broom_ instead of my _ass_! Or at least buy me a fucking drink first!" he screamed before bolting to the ground and throwing his broom in one direction and his bat in another, heading into the changing room. He pulled off his helmet and kicked the lockers.

"What's eating you, mate?" asked Duncan Evercreech. He was sitting on the bench with Bruno Desford and Michael Crawford, trading Chocolate Frog cards and looking as if they were waiting for something.

"What are you lot doing in here?" Fred countered, ignoring the seventh years' question.

"Oh, well, Oliver had a…story to share with us." Said Evercreech in a wink-wink-nudge-nudge sort of way.

"Oh for fuck's sake." Fred muttered, crossing to his locker and shedding his uniform. This was a common occurrence after Oliver had a conquest. Fred went to the showers and let the warm water cool his temper and calm the boiling lava sensation in his stomach. He heard the rest of the boys on the team enter the locker room and exited the shower, determined to get out of there as soon as possible.

"C'mon, Oliver! We came all this way, let's hear it!" Fred heard Michael say as Oliver opened his locker.

"Okay, okay. So we were in the astronomy tower, and she just pounces on me, right? We're going at it rough, like hippogriffs in heat, and her tongue is in my mouth and I've got a fistful of her hair and she moans in this throaty, sexy way and I just know this is gonna be good..." Wood boasted as the other boys listened, absolutely enthralled.

Fred's hands balled into tight fists and he tightened his jaw so hard that he thought his molars might splinter. The last thing he wanted to do now was listen to Wood brag about his conquests, since the rumors were already spreading and especially because he knew it was Hazel. He pulled on his trousers and undershirt sharply, trying to ignore his captain's voice.

"Wait, wait, who is this? I need a visual here." Duncan asked, a big grin on his stupid Irish face.

Oliver smirked, "It was Hazel Herrod." Oliver's heart sunk, but he kept up the act. Hazel kept refusing to talk to or, hell, even look at him. He felt like she had petrified his heart. He was hurting, and the boys expected their story. It was his way of dealing with the issue.

Fred glared over at his captain. George caught the expression on his twin's face and his suspicions were confirmed. Fred looked as if he wanted to beat the living hell out of Wood. George's body tensed, ready to pounce on his twin if such a thing happened. Instead Fred grabbed his coat out of his locker, slammed it and stalked out of the changing room.

Waiting around the corner, just outside the door and in full earshot of Wood, was Hazel. Her eyes were round and brimming with tears. Fred caught her panicked gaze for a second before she turned and ran like a scared rabbit.

"Hazel, wait!" he called, taking off after her. At the top of the hill, in view of both the Quidditch pitch and the castle, he caught up with her. She was sobbing and Fred pulled her into his arms, apologizing profusely.

"I've made a mess of everything…" she said into his warm coat. "I'm such a goddamned idiot! And now, now I'm the whore of Gryffindor!" she rambled through her tears, pulling out of Fred's arms.

"You're not a whore, Hazel. You're so much more than that." Fred said weakly, rubbing her shoulder.

"What's more is that I knew it was a mistake, even before anything really happened…I tried to stop it and then…"

This made Fred bristle, "Then what? Did he force you?" He gripped her upper arms and bent over to look her straight in the eyes. She brushed him off.

"No, no nothing like that. I just kept hearing Allegra's voice in my head and I didn't want to be weak anymore." She said sadly, wringing her hands.

"Allegra? What's she got to do with this?"

"She came up to me on the road to Hogsmeade on Halloween and we had a row. She said that I was just all talk, no action; that I was weak. I thought that sleeping with Oliver would help me prove to myself that Allegra was wrong and instead...It's like I don't even know who I am anymore. You and George were right…maybe I am one of _those_ girls."

Fred's stomach lurched with guilt. He could see she was on the verge of tears again and knew exactly what she needed.

"Come on, you could use a laugh." He said as he grabbed her hand and led her into the castle and up to the fourth floor.

He slowed down and, as they approached the corner slid his back along the wall and gently guided her to do the same. He peeked around the corner and gave her a thumbs-up before putting a finger to his lips. He rummaged around in his coat pocket, and after a minute revealed a dungbomb.

"Look who's there." He whispered in her ear. She moved around him and saw, much to her pleasure, Filch having an animated chat with his cat.

They exchanged a look and Hazel took out her wand, "Igniculum," she whispered as she lit the fuse of the dungbomb. Fred gave her a small salute and lobbed the dungbomb down the hall. Just as it reached Filch it exploded, filling the hall with the stench of shit and sounds of a very angry cat and an even angrier Filch. As they heard his uneven footsteps and shouted curses squelch closer, they took off down the hall, laughing all the way.

They didn't stop running until they were back in Gryffindor Tower and collapsed on Fred's bed, laughing like mad and trying to catch their breath. Hazel looked over at Fred and couldn't help but smile.

"How did you know he would be there?" she asked breathlessly.

"George and I memorized his routes a long time ago. Makes for easier getaways." He explained simply, turning onto his side and regarding Hazel, propping his head up on his bent arm. His face darkened and his voice lowered, "Hazel, I just want you to know that I'm sorry about what I said that night. You should know that none of us thinks any less of you because of what happened." He said nervously, reaching his hand halfway between them.

"I know. I'm sorry I've been distant recently – "

"Distant? You've been on another bloody continent!" He joked and she hit his arm.

"Okay, I know! I really am sorry. But the whole Oliver-Allegra thing is really only part of it." She sighed, laying flat on her back and looking up at his canopy. She was ready to get this secret off of her chest.

"What's the other part?" he asked gently.

Hazel sat up and took her shoes off so as to not get his bed all muddy. He sat up as well, sitting cross-legged. She moved closer to him, closing the drapes and casting an Mufflatio charm over his bed. Their knees nearly touched as they sat cross-legged, facing each other.

"The other part is that I got a letter on Halloween. It was from my grandfather. He told me that Sirius Black is my mother's cousin, which makes him my second cousin." She confessed, immediately feeling a tremendous weight lift off of her shoulders.

"Well, that's not such a big deal. I've got loads of second cousins…probably. And I bet there are a few bad eggs in the bunch." Fred smiled, taking her hands in his and encouraging her to smile as well.

"It's not just that…it just compounded on the whole 'who the hell am I' stuff. Finding out that you're related to a mass murderer who escaped from Azkaban to come to your school and terrorize everyone is just the icing on the whole self-doubt cake."

"There's cake?" Fred joked, perking up to sell the bit. "But in all seriousness, you could've come to us. We could've helped you through this much sooner. Gotten you back to yourself."

"How could you get me back to myself? I don't have any clue who that is." She murmured as she picked at a loose thread on his comforter.

He grabbed her hands in his and put a finger under her chin, lifting it to make her eyes look into his. "You are Hazel Herrod. Fifth year Gryffindor, smart as a whip and wickedly beautiful to boot. I've also heard you can make up charms, something I highly doubt even Flitwick can do. Sure, you're absolute shit on a broom but hey, we can't all be as perfect as I am." He smirked. Hazel felt a fire in her chest that lit a warm blush on her cheeks. She glanced down at their hands and tried to ignore how this was the best she'd felt all week.

"What are you thinking?" Fred asked gently, squeezing her hands lightly.

"Nothing." She lied, thinking about how close he was and how warm she felt in this moment with him.

"Liar." He said, "You've always got something going on in that head of yours." He tapped her forehead with his long index finger and she giggled.

"Yeah, I guess." She trailed off, still sinking into the cozy feeling in the pit of her stomach, like she had drunk hot chocolate laced with firewhiskey.

"Want to go down to dinner? It's about that time." Fred's voice broke her train of thought and she nodded, lifting the Imperturbable charm and putting her shoes back on. She noticed the rumble of thunder in the distance and the clouds outside darkening.

At dinner she sat with Fred, George, and Angelina, as well as Alicia Spinnet and Lee Jordan who joined them after being released from a Saturday detention.

"What did you two do?" Hazel asked, taking a bite out of a roll.

"We were caught in a compromising position on Professor Lupin's desk." Alicia said, maintaining her innocence despite the hoots from the rest of her classmates. Lee confirmed that nothing happened, but Hazel caught the wink he meant only Fred and George to see.

"Speaking of Lupin, have any of you noticed how many classes he's missed recently? Three in a row last week." Angelina commented.

"I just hope he doesn't get sacked, he's the best Defense professor we've ever had." Hazel agreed. She, as well as the vast majority of the student body, always looked forward to the young professor's lessons, even if he did look at her with a strange sort of nostalgia as if they had known each other in a past life.

"Nah, they won't sack him. There'd be riots in the corridors." George said confidently as he helped himself to a third slice of steak and kidney pie.

"How do you manage to eat so much?" Alicia asked him, sounding both incredulous and annoyed.

George knocked on his temple, "Completely empty." He joked, shoving a forkful into his mouth.

Veronica approached the table, smiling devilishly at Alicia and Lee. "I've just heard the finniest story about you two." She gloated as she sat down.

"And I will pay you five galleons if you don't say another word!" Alicia said, the desperation obvious in her voice. Veronica held out her hand and smirked expectantly.

"Does it count as blackmail if she _offered_ to pay me?" she asked Hazel as Alicia paid her dues.

"I don't think so." Hazel said, shrugging.

"Definitely not!" agreed the twins.

"We'll call it self-preservation then, eh?" Alicia said, smiling as she got up from the table. Hazel watched her go and saw Oliver and his mates enter the Great Hall. They were laughing about something and Hazel had a sinking feeling they were laughing about her. She turned around and hunched over, hiding her face with her hand.

"Hazel, what is it?" Veronica asked, looking over her shoulder.

"Let's go." Fred and George said in unison, Fred grabbing her hand and standing with her. She started ahead of them as they said goodbye to the others, but was stopped when Michael Crawford and Duncan Evercreech stood in her way.

"Where you off to, Herrod? The Astronomy Tower?" Evercreech laughed.

"No. It's none of your damn business." She said, trying to push past them but Crawford grabbed her upper arm roughly. He was a seventh year like Oliver, tall and reedy but surprisingly strong.

"Wood says you scream like a banshee. Is that true, or was he just using colorful language?" he asked quietly, his fingers digging into her arm painfully.

"I've got some colorful language for you if you don't let me go." She said, pulling her arm in an attempt to break free. His grip only got tighter.

"Not until you – "

"I'd be very careful with what you say next, Crawford." George said, gripping Crawford's forearm so tightly his knuckles turned white. His eyes held an anger that Hazel had never seen there before.

"We have the ability to make life _very_ difficult for you." Fred threatened. Whatever anger was in George's eyes shone tenfold in Fred's.

Crawford dropped Hazel's arm and backed away, letting them pass. They walked three abreast, with Fred and George on either side of her. Once they were outside the Great Hall she rounded on them, hugging one in each arm.

"What's all this then?" Fred asked, hugging her back.

"I think she's finally snapped!" George said, "We should get her to the infirmary!" She let go of them and rolled her eyes.

"You two just can't take a little gratitude, can you?" she said, taking a few steps down the hall.

"Nope." They said together just before they crashed into her, Fred picking her up and running her outside into the thunderstorm.

She pulled out her wand just in time and, lifting it above her head shouted, "Umbrellum!"

The trio stood in the middle of the courtyard under the open sky, but not a drop of water hit them. Instead, it stopped about a foot above the twins' heads, rolling away as if they were under an invisible umbrella. The twins looked up, dumbfounded.

"Where'd you learn that one? Obscure Water-Repelling Charms of Europe and Britain?" George asked through his amazement.

"No, I made it up." She muttered bashfully. Their jaws dropped. They had heard rumors (mostly from Veronica) that Hazel could make up charms, but hadn't seen it for themselves yet.

"You could just use an Impervius charm. Does the same thing." Fred said, trying to take her down a peg as he smirked.

"That only keeps your clothes dry. It does nothing for skin and hair. And I've been working on this one for weeks, but haven't been able to test it since it's been pretty dry." She explained humbly.

"I still think it's stupid." Fred said. In response, Hazel shoved him hard enough so that he stumbled out of the protective charm and slipped in the mud. George busted out laughing and Hazel stood with her arms crossed in front of her and her hip popped out.

"Not so stupid now, eh?" she said loud enough for him to hear over the pounding rain. He stood and smirked devilishly. Before Hazel could counter, Fred dashed at her, tackling her to the ground. She couldn't tell if she was angry or enthralled, because she kept alternating between laughter and screams. It was only after she and Fred collapsed into a rather large puddle in the quad that her screams dissolved into laughter. Fred lay in the water next to her, laughing as well.

"Hey you two!" George yelled, standing over them, still under the protective charm with a handful of waterproof firecrackers.

"We've been meaning to test these out as well," he explained, beckoning each of them back under the charm. Each grabbed a few and agreed to test them out and record their findings for posterity's sake. However, before Hazel left the Umbrella charm again Fred threw one so it exploded at her feet.

"Oh, that's how you want to play it?" she said, throwing one at him.

"Oi! That's my brother!" George joined in. It soon turned into an all-out water-and-firecracker fight between the three of them.

There were no teams, it was every man for himself and the competition was fierce. Hazel took to hiding behind the sculptures and columns in the yard and waiting for Fred or George to pass by before soaking them with a jet of water from her wand or tossing a firecracker at their backs. Veronica, Lee, and the twins' brother Ron joined them for a bit before Professor McGonagall told them to knock it off.

"You'll all catch your death! And it's almost curfew, now off to bed with you!" she said in her Scottish accent, shooing them all up to Gryffindor Tower.

Once there they all bid each other good night, the boys heading up to their dormitory while Veronica and Hazel mounted the steps to theirs.

"So…?" Veronica said, looking at Hazel from the corner of her eye.

"So what?" Hazel asked, shivering violently as her clothes were still very wet and smelled slightly of gunpowder.

"Is there something you want to tell me? Like, say, about you and a certain Weasley twin?" Veronica suggested not so subtly as they entered the dorm. Three of the beds had their curtains drawn, and Hazel headed to hers.

"Which Weasley?"

"Pick one." Veronica said flirtatiously, whipping her wet jumper at Hazel.

"There's nothing going on between me and _any_ Weasley. We're friends, that's all." Hazel said to placate her friend's assumptions.

"Yeah, alright." Veronica snarked, pulling off the rest of her uniform. "For what it's worth, you and Fred look really good together. If he makes you happy, I say go for it." She teased, causing Hazel to throw a jumper at her.

"Look, I've made enough of a mess of my romantic life this year. I'm swearing off boys until O.W.L.s are over." Hazel pledged, crawling into bed. Leia hopped up onto her bed and curled up next to her, Hazel thought that this pledge felt good, it felt like the right thing to do.

Now all she had to do was silence the small voice in her head that told her Veronica was right.

* * *

 **Hello lovely readers! I would have put this at the top but I didn't want to leave you in** **suspense for too much longer!**

 **Quick shout out to Lilipp and XOXMaximumcullenXOX for the follows! Also, my deepest, sincerest thank-you's to Cmnewman and Lilipp for the reviews! I love hearing from you all!**

 **Full disclosure, I've got 20 chapters ready and waiting to be published. I know exactly where this story is heading and can't wait to share it with all of you! Follows and Reviews are GREATLY appreciated!**

 **Hope you enjoyed it!**

 **XO,**

 **Meggo!**


	5. Not-So-Sweet Sixteen

**I do not own Harry Potter.**

 **Stay tuned, readers! I've got a Super Special Surprise for you at the end of the chapter!**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Hazel received a summons from Professor Flitwick the following week. She had consulted with the small professor many times over the last few months, but she had always initiated those meetings. She wondered as to what he wanted as she made her way to the Charms classroom over by the library, all the way across campus.

The sky had been gray all week, threatening rain at any minute. Hazel dashed across campus and ducked into the second floor corridor just as thunder cracked across the sky and the rain pummeled down. She knocked on the door of the Charms classroom and heard Flitwick's squeaky voice bid her enter.

"Good afternoon, Professor." She said pleasantly, closing the door behind her.

"Hazel dear! So good to see you! Come, sit down!" He said, beckoning her towards his desk at the far end of the room. She strode over and sat at the desk nearest him, depositing her bag on the floor.

"I must admit, Professor, I'm a little confused as to why you called me here."

"Since it's your O.W.L. year, in a few months' time you will meet with your head of house and discuss your future plans." He said, leaning back in his chair.

"I know this."

"I was just wondering if you had ever thought about curse breaking. I have a few contacts at Gringotts' and have taken the liberty of speaking to them on your behalf. With your academic record, especially your proclivity for Charms, I have it on good authority that you would get the job in a heartbeat." He reached into a desk drawer and extracted a few pamphlets and passed them over the desk to Hazel.

"Honestly Professor, I hadn't. I've got two family businesses to choose from and haven't really given thought to anything else." She really hadn't. She figured she would work at her father's shop until her uncle retired, then take over Nithercott's, eventually running both. She told this to the diminutive professor, who peered at her through his round glasses.

"Would you be content with that decision? To work in your father's shop?"

"Well…I suppose."

"Because, while there is nothing wrong with remaining in the familiar, the dissimilar can provide a certain…gratification. I've always detected an adventurous spirit in you, Hazel. It would be a pity to ignore that." He looked at her with a heavy certainty that made Hazel uncomfortable. She looked down at the pamphlet again and tried to form an answer, but words had abandoned her.

"If you would like you can owl Bill Weasley, I believe you are acquainted with his younger brothers? I've let him know you may be contacting him."

"I knew he was in Egypt, but I didn't know he worked for Gringotts." She offered weakly, wanting to say something instead of remaining silent.

"The decision is ultimately yours, but I highly encourage you to do some more research into the position. I think you would excel as a Curse Breaker."

"Thank you, Professor." She said, rising from her chair and turning to leave. "Oh, um, that Umbrella Charm I've been working on."

"Yes, I heard from Professor McGonagall that it worked very well." He hobbled out from behind his desk and stood next to her, looking up at her with glassy eyes. "It is a rare professor who feels so proudly of a singular student, Hazel. And I am immensely proud of you, whether or not you choose a profession in Charms." He said humbly, taking her hand in his and genuinely thanking her. Her heart swelled and she felt her eyes start to prickle. She thanked the professor and left his classroom, using her umbrella charm as she walked back toward Gryffindor Tower.

She entered the warm common room and sat on the couch, looking down at the pamphlets Professor Flitwick had given her.

 _"Are you seeking a challenging career involving travel, adventure, and substantial, danger-related treasure bonuses? Then consider a position with Gringotts Wizarding Bank, who are currently recruiting Curse-Breakers for thrilling opportunities abroad."_

From the inside of the pamphlet, she gathered that curse breaking was a lot like Muggle archaeology or, at least, like the archaeology she saw in films like _Indiana Jones_. She liked that idea, and the more she read the more she was drawn to it.

"Whatcha reading?" Veronica asked, plopping down next to her.

"Just a pamphlet Flitwick gave me." She dismissed, putting the pamphlet in her bag to continue reviewing later. "What's new with you?"

"No way, we aren't talking about me right now. It's your birthday on Saturday! The boys have a Quidditch game in the morning, but we could all do something in the afternoon? Throw a little party in an old classroom?"

"Whatever you feel like arranging is good enough for me. I trust you. I don't think I'm going to the Quidditch game though."

"Oh, but you must! If Gryffindor wins on your birthday-"

"No, I'm not going." Hazel lowered her voice, "I can't handle seeing _him."_

"You see _him_ every day! You're in the same house!" Veronica whispered back, reaching out and touching Hazel's forearm. "What's bothering you? I thought you'd gotten past this."

"It's just something he said in the Great Hall the first night back. About how he noticed when I wasn't at Quidditch matches. I can't help but think…"

"Hazel, there's no way he can see you from way up there! It's common knowledge that you opt out of Quidditch, he was just going off of that."

"Yeah, but still…whatever you want to do after the match, I will gladly do." She patted her friend on the leg.

"Please be something dirty, please be something dirty!" Lee said, pressing his hands together as if in prayer as he and the twins flopped on the empty chairs.

"I meant birthday stuff you pervert." Hazel said, playfully hitting Lee on the shoulder.

"You kidding? Birthday stuff is always the dirtiest!" Lee exclaimed.

"Not what I meant." Hazel deadpanned.

"Well, we can always hope." George said, draping himself over the arm of a chair to stretch his back. He let out a long groan and said, "Wood's been riding us hard this week. You'd know all about that, wouldn't you Haze?"

The comment caught Hazel completely off guard, and she stared at him like a deer in the headlights as the group fell into a stunned silence. After a minute, she dashed away and up to the girl's dorm, slamming the door behind her.

"Way to go, hippogriff-shit-for-brains." Fred said, punching his brother in the arm.

"What? Are we not joking about this yet?"

"No, we're not. She's not over it! She's not even going to the Quidditch match on her birthday because he'll be there! Merlin's balls, George, how goddamn insensitive can you get?" Veronica scolded. He looked sheepishly at Veronica from his upside-down position and slowly lifted himself.

"She's not coming to the match?" Fred asked.

"She never goes to matches, you know that." Lee reasoned.

"Veronica, will you go get her? It's almost time for dinner." George asked, standing and stretching his long legs.

"Only if you promise to apologize." Veronica chastised and George waved her off as she stood. She returned a moment later with an upset-looking Hazel in tow and George's heart sank. It was very obvious she'd been crying.

"Shall we?" Fred asked, shooting his twin a meaningful look as he ushered Lee and Veronica toward the door. George nodded.

"I'm sorry, Hazel. I shouldn't have said…what I said. You know me, always sticking my foot in my mouth." He apologized bashfully, his hands deep in his pockets.

"Yeah well…I guess I forgive you. You just look so cute when you're all contrite." She joked, pinching his cheek.

"I think what you meant was rugged and manly."

"Whatever you say, love." She patted his shoulder as they turned and followed their friends down to dinner.

"So what did Flitwick want?" George asked, scuffing his shoe against the ground.

"He uh…wants me to look into being a curse-breaker at Gringotts." She confessed.

"That's what my brother Bill does in Egypt. We visited him this summer, it was wicked cool all the tombs and hieroglyphics and stuff. You think you wanna do it?" he asked casually.

"I'm not sure. I've got to get all the O.W.L.s for it first."

"Eh, you'll do fine. And besides, they're not until next year, why worry now?"

"Guess you're right. What are you and Fred going to do after Hogwarts?"

"We're thinking of opening our own joke shop somewhere. Of course, the idea would horrify our mother, but we think we'd have a pretty good go of it. Once we find some start up capital. It's just an idea at this point, though. Mad ravings of two lunatic jokesters…"

"Y'know, my dad owns his own shop in York."

"Oh really? You've only mentioned it a million times." They rounded into the corridor that would lead them to the Great Hall, still some distance behind their friends.

"Yeah, yeah, but he could offer you some advice. If you do decide to make a go of it, that is." Hazel offered.

"We might just take you up on that," he inhaled deeply as they reached the great wooden doors, "Mmm, food smells good. I hope they've got steak and kidney pie tonight. I'm starving!"

* * *

Hazel elected to stay back from the Quidditch game to catch up on homework, despite Veronica's protestations. In the silent Gryffindor tower she could usually hear the distant cheering, but today the thunderstorm to end all thunderstorms raged outside, and Hazel could barely hear herself think.

Her mind drifted to Snuffles, hoping he was okay and had found some sort of shelter. It was getting colder by the day, and the rain would soon turn to snow. Hazel couldn't bear the thought of the poor dog freezing to death. If it came down to it, she decided, she would sneak him into the castle and keep him in an abandoned classroom and hope no one noticed. She could ask Hagrid to take him in, betting that the Care of Magical Creatures professor would not hesitate to help an animal in trouble.

She sighed, giving up on homework. It was her birthday after all, why should she have to work? Instead she cracked open the Gringotts pamphlet for the millionth time, looking it over and considering.

She pulled a pen out of her bag (her father had sent her some because she was sick of using quills) and a piece of parchment.

 _'Dear Bill,_

 _You don't know me but I know your brothers, Fred and George, as I am in their year at Hogwarts. We started just after you left, but anyway I believe you are expecting to hear from me? Professor Flitwick gave me your name along with some information about becoming a curse breaker for Gringotts. I was hoping you could help me answer some questions in order to help me make my decision? It's all rather daunting, this whole "what are you going to do in the future" business._

 _If not, I understand. Getting letters from complete strangers claiming to know your most troublesome siblings isn't a very motivating factor, is it?_

 _Anyway, I hope to hear from you soon!_

 _Oh, by the way, my name is Hazel. Hazel Herrod._

 _Thanks again!_

 _Hazel'_

Despite the lack of professionalism, Hazel stuck it in an envelope and sealed it. She then pulled out another piece of parchment and started a letter to her father.

 _'Dear Dad,_

 _Thank you for the wonderful birthday gifts! I love my pens, and the Cadbury chocolates and Yorkshire tea! I miss that stuff so much while I'm here. I miss you too, and the shop. I hope it's not in shambles when I come home for Christmas._

 _An update on my life, let's see…I was called into the Charms professor's office where he gave me a pamphlet on becoming a curse-breaker for Gringotts (the wizard bank). I told him I would need to think about it._

 _Would you be horribly disappointed if I didn't take over the shop after school? I know it's going to be a long time before you even think about retirement, and it'll probably take the same amount of time (or longer) for Uncle Leonard to retire, so it might be nice to do something in the meantime. Get all this wanderlust out of my system, see a bit of the world, earn some income of my own._

 _I hope this letter finds you well, say hello for me to the guys at your game and don't hurt yourself! Thank you for the gifts! Miss you!_

 _All my love,_

 _Hazel'_

She sealed the second letter and stuffed them both in her pockets, heading off to the Owlery to send them, the Umbrella charm coming very handy as she exited the long bridge and walked up the path to the tower. The stairs were especially slippery, so she took her time and finally got to the top, where she could hear barely Lee's voice carried on the wind over from the Quidditch pitch.

Hazel selected a hardy-looking screech owl to make the trip to Egypt and a smaller one to go to York. They each gave her hesitant looks and she said, "Oh fine, you can wait until the rain lets up." They hooted appreciatively and went back to grooming themselves.

Hazel glanced out the window and, if she squinted, could make out red and yellow dots flying around in the distance. She could hear Lee's announcements but couldn't make out the words, so she concentrated on watching the dots.

She saw one red and one yellow dot shoot up into the low-hanging clouds and figured it was Cedric and Harry following the snitch.

Suddenly, she felt cold. The rain outside seemed heavier, and the puddles on the floor turned to ice. Hazel froze as well, rooted to her spot as no less than ten dementors glided past the many windows of the Owlery toward the pitch. She tried to call out, but found her vocal chords paralyzed in fear.

She felt it all coming back. What Allegra had said, her continued absence, Hazel and Oliver, Hazel and Ewan, her mother, her father. The guilt and sadness and frustration crashed over her like a wave and Hazel fell to her knees, tears spilling out of her eyes as the Owlery began to thaw. She regained herself after a few minutes and stood, bracing herself on the windowsill facing the Quidditch pitch. She looked up and her stomach dropped as she watched a red dot fall from the sky at an alarming speed.

* * *

Her birthday party ended up being a rather somber affair in the boys' dorm. Fred and George and Lee were all sulking about Gryffindor's loss, trying to drown themselves with butterbeer.

"Come on, boys, it's a party!" Veronica tried to lift the mood, as she had been since the party had started. She, Angelina, and Hazel sat on the floor playing Exploding Snap and nursing their own butterbeers.

"Fred, you know you want to come join us." Angelina taunted, holding out the cards in her hand, yelping as one exploded in her hand.

"No thanks. Too busy sulking." He said simply, turning over in his bed to face away from them.

"I'm actually pretty tired," Hazel said, stifling a yawn, "I think I'm going to turn in."

"What? No! This is your birthday party!" Veronica grabbed Hazel's hand as she tried to stand, attempting to pull her back to the floor.

"We can try again next year! Hopefully Harry Potter won't get attacked and Gryffindor won't lose a stupid Quidditch match then!" she half-joked as she yanked her hand away from Veronica and left the boys' room.

In truth, her encounter with the dementor was still troubling her. She had walked as calmly as possible back to the tower and eaten some of her Cadbury chocolate from her father. It didn't have the same effect, and she still felt a bit nauseated. On her way up to her own dorm, she decided to go see Madame Pomfrey the next morning if she still felt rotten.

So much for a sweet sixteen.

* * *

 **Super Special Surprise time!**

 **I'm posting two, yes TWO new chapters today (mainly because they are short, filler-type chapters and I feel bad about that)! I will put my usual thanks and shout-outs in Chapter 6!**

 **As usual, reviews and follows GREATLY appreciated!**


	6. Strange Revelations

**I do not own Harry Potter!**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 _'_ _Hazel,_

 _I would be proud of you even if you were wearing a sandwich board outside of Marks and Spencer advertising toothpaste, so long as it made you happy. If you want to explore magical professions rather than follow in your dear old dad's footsteps, that is your decision. As long as it makes you happy, it makes me happy._

 _However, I have some reservations about 'curse breaking'…it sounds rather dangerous, but also enthralling. Like Indiana Jones. I could start calling you Indy if you'd like. Haha._

 _I think the person who may have some objections is your grandfather. He seems awfully intent on you taking over instead of Leonard. But who can blame him for that? I would write to him and address this issue before the holidays, as it could make things awkward._

 _Anyway, my team lost. I didn't injure myself, and the boys say hi. I miss you, kiddo._

 _Love,_

 _Dad_

 _P.S. I hope your birthday was most excellent! We will celebrate when you get home, yeah?'_

Hazel smiled as she read her dad's letter. Every third Wednesday of the month he and his university friends would play football together. Before Hogwarts, Hazel was the team's cheerleader, mascot, and refreshment provider. In the summers off of Hogwarts she would tag along and the blokes would ask her questions about school and boyfriends, among other things. They had become something akin to uncles to Hazel, and she always missed them during school.

Her stomach did a backflip when she thought about writing to her grandfather. If he was so intent on Hazel taking over Nithercott's he would be very upset. Hazel didn't think she had ever seen her grandfather upset before. He was a very even-keeled, calm-headed man. This helped reassure her a bit, but she was still not looking forward to telling him she was looking at other career options. She decided to just write the letter and send it before anxiety got the best of her.

 _'Dear Grandpa,_

 _I hope this letter finds you well, and I would like to thank you and Gran for the lovely scarf you sent me for my birthday, as well as mum's journal! I look forward to reading it._

 _The reason I am writing is that my Charms professor seems to think that I would make an excellent curse-breaker for Gringotts after school ends. I have looked into it and am seriously considering putting in an application when the time comes. Mind you, that's still two and a half years away, and it will be a long time before my father and Uncle Leonard decide to retire, so having something adventurous to do in the meantime would be rather a nice thing, don't you think?_

 _Hope all is well, give Gran my love. I miss you both and will see you at Christmas!_

 _Love,_

 _Hazel'_

She dashed out of the Great Hall and ran all the way to the Owlery, tying the letter to the first owl she could find, and dashing back to the castle. If she were late to Potions, Snape would most definitely have her head.

* * *

Hazel couldn't focus in Defense Against the Dark Arts that afternoon, which was rather unfortunate because they were practicing the stunning spell. She partnered with Fred and lost her train of thought just as it was his turn to stun her.

"Stupefy!" he yelled. The curse hit her square in the chest and her world went black.

"Oh shit, Hazel!" he yelled, running over to her.

"Very good, Mr. Weasley! Five points to Gryffindor!" Professor Lupin praised, as Fred was the first in the class to achieve a complete stun. Most of the other students only succeeded in making their partners dizzy. He strode over and leaned over Hazel, who was breathing evenly as if asleep. She looked so much like her mother when she slept, he thought, but quickly pushed that thought to the back of his mind.

"We should get her to the hospital wing!" Angelina said, a mild panic in her voice.

"No, no, this leads us into our next lesson! Mr. Weasley, the reviving spell if you please." Lupin said, motioning for Fred to perform the spell.

"Rennervate." Fred said uneasily, pointing his wand at Hazel's chest. She stirred a bit, but fell back under.

"Anyone else care to try? Fifteen points to the person who can successfully revive Miss Herrod!" he offered, but no one stepped up to the challenge. He had thought this might happen, that they would be hesitant to perform the spells on their classmates. Seeing one of them successfully stunned only added to this anxiety, so Professor Lupin performed the reviving spell on Hazel himself.

Hazel opened her eyes and blinked to bring everything back into focus. Fred was leaning over her, Angelina and Veronica on either side of her. Fred supported her back as she slowly sat up, her head feeling as if she had smashed it against a brick wall and her stomach lurching uncomfortably.

"Miss Herrod, how are you feeling?" the professor asked.

"Awful…just awful. Can I go to the hospital wing?" she asked, and the professor nodded.

"Mr. Weasley, if you would. You see class, I wanted you to practice on each other so you could physically feel the effects of the stunning spell. It isn't pleasant to be awoken from, eh Miss Herrod?" he presented as Fred helped Hazel stand.

"Not at all." She said as Fred helped her toward the door. Professor Lupin kept waxing on about one should be mindful of the curses they cast, as some can have side effects while Fred and Hazel exited the classroom.

Fred was seething, and Hazel could see it on his face and feel it in the tense muscles of his well-developed arms. He was also taking very long, quick strides that Hazel could barely keep up with.

"Fred, slow down!" she said, pulling away from him and moving toward the wall as a wave of dizziness descended over her. She pressed her back up against it and slid down, appreciating the cool marble against her warm skin.

"Sorry. I'm just…I can't believe he made me do that to you! You know I wouldn't have – "

"Yes, Fred, I know you didn't mean to stun me. Now sit down, your pacing is just making it worse." She said, closing her eyes as the hallway began to spin.

"Do you want me to go fetch Madame Pomfrey?" he asked, pointing down the hall in the direction of the infirmary.

"No, I'll be fine in a minute. Just a little dizzy." She explained, clamping her eyes shut and pressing her hands against the cold floor.

"You don't look fine. Here," he said, putting one arm behind her back and the other under her knees, lifting her as though she didn't weigh anything. Hazel let out a yelp of surprise and opened her eyes, only to regret it a second later. She shut them tight, wrapped her arms around Fred's neck, and pressed her face into his chest to stop the spinning. His scent became her point of focus as she tried to control the pounding in her head. Sandalwood, clove, and just a hint of gunpowder. He and George must've been experimenting with their waterproof firecrackers again.

Fred entered the hospital wing and placed her on a bed, hesitating a moment before standing to wave Madame Pomfrey over. She bustled over and started fussing over Hazel.

"What happened, dearie?" she asked, fluffing a pillow and shoving it behind Hazel's back. Hazel explained what happened and the nurse scowled.

"He might've warned me you were up to this unit. I'm going to have to stock up on Reversion Draught. I'm all out at the moment, I'm afraid, but I can give you a Sleeping Draught. A good sleep usually gets rid of the after effects." The nurse offered and Hazel nodded, very glad that she didn't have any other classes that day.

Fred stood at the end of Hazel's bed as the nurse bustled away and started rummaging around in a cabinet.

"Do you want me to stay?" he asked, hoping she would say yes. He felt incredibly guilty for causing her pain.

"No, I'll just be sleeping. Not much point in hanging around." Fred's face fell and Hazel noticed. "I'll be fine Fred. Really. I don't blame you for stunning me."

A smile spread across his face, "Except with my devilishly good looks?"

"Yeah, something like that." She said dryly as Madame Pomfrey returned and handed her a small vial full of a greenish-purple potion that tasted about as good as it looked.

"See you on the other side," Hazel muttered as she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

* * *

Luckily for Hazel the next day was Saturday and Madame Pomfrey let her have a bit of a lie in, only shaking her awake to inform her breakfast was ending in fifteen minutes. Hazel gathered her things, thanked the nurse, and made her way to the Great Hall. She paused by a suit of armor to try and smooth down her wild morning hair and wipe yesterday's mascara from around her eyes.

She sat down at the Gryffindor table and grabbed a bun and some bacon, thinking a quick bap would get her out of the Great Hall before breakfast ended and all the food disappeared. However, judging by the fullness of the room she suspected the nurse had lied to her to get her out of bed. She relaxed a bit as the post arrived, but was shocked when the owl from yesterday landed in front of her and stuck his leg out.

Hazel recognized the Howler immediately and her heart started thudding in her chest. With shaking hands she opened it, and the letter came to life, floating in front of her.

"HAZEL AMELIA HERROD! HOW DARE YOU EVEN THINK ABOUT ABANDONING TWO HUNDRED AND THIRTY-SEVEN YEARS OF YOUR FAMILY'S HISTORY FOR SOME JOB WORKING FOR GOBLINS! HAVE YOU ANY IDEA HOW DANGEROUS A JOB CURSE-BREAKING IS? YOU COULD DIE! DO YOU REALLY THINK LEONARD IS GOING TO HELP THE BUSINESS? YOU'LL BE LUCKY IF HE DOESN'T RUN IT INTO THE GROUND! I HOPE YOU'RE HAPPY, YOUR GRANDFATHER HAS LOCKED HIMSELF IN HIS STUDY AND REFUSES TO COME OUT! WE ARE FURIOUS WITH YOU! PLEASE WRITE BACK THAT YOU'RE RECONSIDERING AND MAYBE WE WON'T SEND A HOWLER BACK THIS TIME!"

The Howler screamed in her grandmother's voice, which got awfully shrill as she went on. As the letter ripped itself up Hazel sat silently, a blush burning her cheeks. The other students in the hall were staring at her, hundreds of eyes boring into her and thanking their lucky stars they hadn't received a Howler. Without thinking, Hazel grabbed her things and bolted from the Great Hall, following her feet out towards her tree.

When she got there she dried the hot, embarrassed tears from her face and took deep breaths to calm herself down. She pressed herself against the tree and looked up at the sky, which was bright blue and sunny without even a hint of clouds. Strange weather for November, but Hazel was grateful for it. She searched around in her bag for a book and pulled out one of her grandparents' birthday presents; her mother's journal from her fifth year at Hogwarts.

She opened the book and saw her mother's handwriting.

'This journal belongs to Laurel Francine Nithercott, aged fifteen (nearly sixteen) years'

Hazel traced her finger over her mother's name before turning the page.

'January 16, 1975,

I had the most wonderful time at Hogsmeade today. Remy and I strolled through the shops, hand in hand, and ended up at the Three Broomsticks where we had a butterbeer each before walking back up to the castle. We were joined by Sirius, who made kissy faces and teased us all the way back. When I confronted him about it, he said he was being a proper older cousin, that my dad would thank him for it. I doubt that.

I really like Remus, but he's always a little distant. Like there's something on his mind all the time. Something he feels guilty about. I don't know what, but I want to. I want to help him through whatever it is, but I don't think he'll let me. Lily thinks it's just an adolescent depression. We do have O.W.L.s in six months…I'm just not sure.

I sent a letter to Daniel about Remus to get a third party opinion. I hope he responds soon. I miss that bugger.'

Hazel's jaw dropped. Remy. Remus. Remus Lupin, her Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, and her mother had… _dated_!? She and Sirius Black were _friends_?!

Hazel slammed the book at these revelations and threw it back in her bag, her nausea coming back. She closed her eyes and rested her head against the back of the tree, breathing in the chilly November air as deeply as she could. She heard dead leaves crunching under approaching feet and figured it was Snuffles, so she kept her eyes closed.

"Sorry Snuffles, no food today." She said breezily as the footsteps came to a stop.

"Snuffles? Is he your imaginary friend?" a familiar Scottish brogue asked her and her insides calcified, her eyes shooting open. Standing above her was Oliver Wood, his school bag casually slung over his burly chest.

Hazel shot to her feet and gathered up her belongings, "No, he's not." She didn't offer him anything else as she turned up the path and headed back to the school.

"Hazel, wait!" he said, grabbing her arm as she tried to walk away. She wrenched it out of his grasp. "I came to talk to you!"

"I have nothing to say to you." She said in a very clipped tone.

"Then just listen, yeah?" she crossed her arms over her chest and looked at him expectantly as he continued, "Look, I'm sorry that I shot my mouth in the locker room. I shouldn't have done that."

"No, you really shouldn't have."

"I was just…I don't know, I was angry with you and you weren't talking to me and…I really like you, Hazel. That night was really great and then you just…disappeared."

"What are you saying, Oliver?"

"Do you want to…give this a go? Go on a real date?"

Hazel was speechless, so she stood there trying to form an answer. She was about to formulate a reply when his lips clashed with hers, his hands cupping her face. She pushed him away roughly.

She suddenly formed a perfect response, "Ugh! If you actually gave a damn about me, you wouldn't have bragged about us in the locker room to all of your sick little mates! You made me a _joke_ , Oliver, you made me _hate_ myself! I wouldn't date you if you paid me!"

"You don't understand - !"

"No, I understand perfectly. Stay away from me, Oliver." She took off up the path and tried to push the revulsion at what had just happened to the back of her mind.

* * *

She stormed into the Gryffindor common room, grabbed a pillow off of the sofa on which George and Lee sat, and let out a long, angry scream into it.

"Everything alright, Hazel?" George asked skeptically, looking up from the papers spread out in front of them.

"You will not _believe_ what just happened!" she said, falling into the chair next to him. She failed to note, however, that the chair was previously occupied and landed right on the lap of a dozing Fred.

"Oi! I'm sleeping here!" he grunted in pain as her bony ass hit the tops of his legs. She immediately tried to get up and apologized profusely, but he grabbed her waist and pulled her back down.

"Oh no you don't, you wake me up from a perfectly salacious dream about Chastity Millbrook you're staying here." He wrapped his long arms around her chest and she struggled against them, laughing maniacally.

"Gerroff Fred! I'm in no mood!" she said through her laughter.

"Liar. Now settle down and tell us what's got your knickers in a twist this time." He said, pinioning her arms to her sides and wrapping his legs around hers in a full-body bind.

"Fine. I was out in the woods and Oliver cornered me. He said some things and then he kissed me. I told him to fuck off and leave me alone, then came back here." She wanted to keep her mother's journal as private as possible. Even if the revelations within the pages were somewhat disturbing, it was her only opportunity to learn about what her mother was like.

Fred grip on her relaxed, "What did he say?"

"Just some nonsense about how he actually cared about me and wanted to date me, despite having bragged about us to all of his friends. Present company included."

"What a fucking cad!" Lee exclaimed.

"And then he _kissed_ you?" Fred asked again.

"Yes. Can you fucking believe that?" she wiggled out of his grasp and stood, sitting between Lee and George.

"Well…yeah." George admitted. Hazel turned her face toward him, shock plastered on her face. "Hazel, we are talking about a bloke who has a somewhat obsessive nature. Like how he is about Quidditch. If you really did show him some major pelvic sorcery, he might just become obsessed with having it again." He looked to Fred and Lee, who both nodded dolefully.

Hazel's face had blanched. What had she gotten herself into? Lee rested a hand on her shoulder and assured her she would be fine, but anxiety nagged at her thoughts. She remained quiet until the portrait hole opened and Oliver walked in. She tried to shrink down in her seat, wishing desperately for an Invisibility Cloak, but he spotted her and treaded over.

She couldn't handle this: she jumped to her feet and tried to dash up the stairs to her dorm but, like a panicked rabbit, had unwittingly run right into the path of her pursuer. Oliver grabbed her arm as he had in the forest and she jerked to a stop, falling backward into his chest.

He laughed, "Just can't stay away from me, can you?" he flirted. Again she tore her arm away from him.

"Not for lack of trying." She muttered, calmly turning away. He tapped her on the shoulder and she reluctantly turned.

"I'm sorry about what happened in the forest. Can we go somewhere and talk this out?" he asked, his deep brown eyes begging her to say yes. He was so damn attractive, but Hazel knew better.

"I said all I had to say."

"You barely said anything!"

"But one thing I did say was stay away from me. Pretty sure I shouted it. So if you could respect that and kindly fuck the fuck off, I would really appreciate it."

A fire ignited in Oliver's eyes and Hazel saw it. He gripped her arm for a third time and pulled her close to him. He gave her a pleading look and was about to say something, but before he could say anything Fred tapped him on the shoulder.

As soon as Oliver turned to face him, Hazel heard a sickening crunch as Fred's fist collided with Oliver's nose.

* * *

Later, after McGonagall had given Fred a week's worth of detention and Oliver had gone to the Hospital wing to have his nose reset, Fred and Hazel sat in the common room alone. It was rather late at night, and she had asked Fred to stay behind when the others had gone up to bed.

"What's up?" he asked, rubbing his bandaged hand. Wood had had a hard nose and Fred had never punched anyone before.

"I just wanted to thank you for being so nice to me lately."

"Am I normally not nice?" he asked, grinning sheepishly in the firelight.

"Not really. I spent all of last year checking around corners and dodging firecrackers. Yet this year, nary a prank has been played on me."

He let out a small laugh, "Nary?"

"Yes, nary. Not a single one. None." She explained.

He sighed and leaned back in his chair, "I've simply been too busy. O.W.L.s coming up, you know. Loads of homework and whatnot."

"Since when have you ever cared about homework?"

"Good point." He admitted. They fell into silence; the only sound the wind whipping past the windows outside and the crackling of the fire. Hazel looked at him out of the corner of her eye. He was sitting in the chair with his tailbone at the edge, horrible posture, really, and had his elbows resting on the arms of the chair, his hands resting on his strong chest.

He had become quite handsome over the last few years. His body was long and lean, but powerful from the years of Quidditch. He had let his hair grow out over the summer, and it suited him in a devil-may-care sort of way. She wondered if it was indeed as soft as it looked and felt a stirring inside her that she quickly quashed. She needed to remember her promise to Veronica. Her promise to herself.

"How's your hand?" she asked noncommittally.

"Hurts. Want to kiss it and make it feel better?" he said, offering it out to her. She smirked and gently took it, kissing the back of his hand on the bandage.

"Better?" she asked, giving him his hand back.

"Loads." He said, looking at her with an intensity that made her uncomfortable.

"Thanks, Fred. For everything." She said quietly, looking into the fire to avoid his eyes.

"Anytime, Hazel."

* * *

Before Hazel had time to respond to the Howler, she received an apologetic letter from her Grandfather.

 _'Hazel,_

 _So sorry that your grandmother sent you a Howler. You know how she gets, she was just a bit worked up over our third-quarter numbers. I'm sorry if she embarrassed you in front of your mates!_

 _If you would like to pursue anything outside the family business, we support you. We just hope you will take responsibility when the time comes for you to take over._

 _See you in a few weeks!_

 _Your Grandfather'_

* * *

 **So, there you are! Two in one day!**

 **Thanks to ADotAQuestion for the follow and Guest (Crimsonwater5) for the review! I realize these were kind of lackluster chapters, but that will soon be rectified!** **Chapter 7 brings another conflict with Allegra and Christmastime!**

 **Reviews are lovely, just like all of you readers!**


	7. Merry Christmas

**Chapter 7 is here! Hooray! [Insert disclaimer here]**

 **Thanks to Campeones, CelticCrossing, IKiraLoveVamps4Ever, dumblesbashing, bookbabes, and noemi-fin for the Follows!**

 **Special thanks to Lissa Roxford and arianaamestoy19121996 for the Favorites (it's a great vote of confidence on your part, so THANK YOU)!**

 **And Extra Special Super Thanks to** **bookbabes and Lillipp for the reviews!**

 **All of you rock and keep me motivated, even the silent ones out there!**

 **Enjoy Chapter 7!**

* * *

Termly exams came and went easily enough and Hazel passed them all, some with more flying colors (Charms, Transfiguration, Muggle Studies) than others (Potions, Divination).

The day before Christmas Break, Hazel bundled herself up and headed down to Hagrid's hut and asked him to keep a lookout for Snuffles and take him in if need be.

"If you could just put some food in the hollowed out maple tree down by the lake every few days until I get back, I'd really appreciate it." She explained to the large man, who had invited her in and placed a mug of tea in front of her.

"A'course, 'azel. Anythin' to help. If I see 'im, I'll bring 'im inside. No one deserves ter be alone on Christmas!" Hagrid said jovially. Hazel sipped a bit of her tea and talked about her Christmas plans before leaving, thanking Hagrid profusely and reminding herself to bring him back a bottle of Nithercott's as a thank-you present.

The next day she found herself on the packed train back to London. As they left Hogsmeade station she looked for a compartment, Leia was in her basket that was slung over Hazel's shoulder along with her duffel bag. Since it was only two weeks, she saw no point in repacking her large trunk.

"Hazel! In here!" Veronica beckoned from down the hall. She smiled and scooted past the people in her way. In the compartment were Veronica, Cedric, Allegra and Eric. Hazel shot Veronica a look, but entered the compartment and stowed her belongings in the racks above before sitting between Cedric and the window.

"Hello Cedric." She greeted the handsome Hufflepuff while ignoring the other two.

"Hey Hazel. How were your exams?" he asked as Veronica slid in next to him and grabbed his hand.

"They were fine. You?" she hated small talk but it was either that or acknowledge the other two people in the compartment, which she was not willing to do. Allegra was going to have to apologize first, especially after what she said on the road to Hogsmeade nearly two months prior.

"Great, actually. Feeling ready for your O.W.L.s?"

"I know I'm not. I've been a bit…distracted." Veronica said exhaustedly, stroking Cedric's knuckles with her thumb. He turned his face to her and smiled. Hazel could see the affection he felt for her in his eyes and Hazel smiled too at the thought that these two could perhaps go the distance.

"Well let's hope second term is a bit less distracting for you then." Eric piped up from his seat across from them. His voice was bitter, which caught Hazel's attention. She looked over at her former best friend's boyfriend and noted that they were sitting nearly two feet apart, Allegra's arms folded across her chest and her entire body tilted away from him and toward the compartment door. They both looked heavily annoyed, and Hazel knew they must've had a row recently. She didn't care about what so she didn't ask.

"Yes. Let's hope." Allegra agreed sharply. The compartment fell into an awkward silence then, the only sound the rumbling of the train beneath them. Cedric lifted Veronica's hand and started kissing her knuckles in a way that made her giggle. They excused themselves and Hazel was left alone with the bickering couple.

Hazel let herself become comfortable in the awkward silence. It was a hell of a lot better than fighting with Allegra again, and she had no reason to speak to Eric so she pulled a book out of her bag and began reading it.

"I thought you didn't like Hemingway." Allegra commented offhandedly when she noticed Hazel's copy of _For Whom the Bell Tolls._

"I like Hemingway just fine." Hazel didn't lift her eyes from her book.

"Hemingway? Is that some kind of Muggle disease?" Eric interjected. Hazel remained silent.

"He's a very famous Muggle author. Not that I would expect you to know that." Allegra remarked pointedly to Eric.

"Not this again." Eric muttered.

"Excuse us, Hazel." Allegra said standing suddenly and exiting the compartment, yanking Eric along by his tie. This left Hazel alone, and that was just fine with her. She devoured the Hemingway until the trolley came around and Veronica and Cedric returned.

"So?" Veronica asked excitedly, not letting go of Cedric's hand as they sat on the bench across from her.

"What?"

"Are you and Allegra okay now?" Veronica was on the edge of her seat, gripping Cedric's hand so tightly he grimaced in pain.

"What? No! She and Eric started bickering after you left, I haven't seen them since." Hazel explained. Did Veronica really expect that one train ride could fix everything that had gone wrong between them?

"Ugh! This is driving me mad! I feel like you're making me choose sides!" Veronica was exasperated, falling back on her seat.

"I've never made you choose sides! If you want to see Allegra, see her. She's been a rotten friend to me, not you." Hazel explained coolly.

"That's what I meant! She's the one pressuring me not to see you anymore. I thought if you two could make up maybe the madness would stop."

"I'm sorry, Veronica, but I won't apologize until she does." Hazel slammed her book and stood up, putting it back in her bag. "Couldn't you write her over the holiday? Just ask her to back off a bit. That you're friends with both of us and it's really unfair for her to ask that of you?" she suggested, sitting back down.

"I guess." Veronica said, resigning herself to Cedric's arms. Hazel ate her lunch and tried to ignore their affectionate display, the spark of jealousy returning to its place in her chest as she watched the countryside pass outside the window.

Before she knew it, they were pulling into Kings Cross and wishing each other happy holidays and a good break. Hazel said her temporary goodbyes and promised to send Veronica's gift along when she got home.

The sight of her dad standing just past the turn styles made her heart leap in her chest. His thick brown hair was styled in the same way it had always been, but he had let his beard grow out a bit, making him look more distinguished. Hazel ran and pushed through the barricade, leaping into her dad's arms.

"Hi daddy." She said, not having realized how much she had missed him as he hugged her tightly.

"Hello Hazel. I missed you so much." He said into her hair.

A throat cleared and a finger tapped her on the shoulder. She let go of her father and turned to see Fred standing there, his bag slung casually over his shoulder.

"Hey Fred! What's up?" she asked.

"Hazel, who is your…friend?" Daniel asked gently, not entirely comfortable with the thought of Hazel in the same room with boys. He knew it was silly and she was a smart girl, but teenage boys, he knew from experience, could be wicked. This one looked nice enough for a ginger.

"Dad, this is Fred Weasley. We're friends. Fred, this is my dad Daniel Herrod." She introduced, inwardly chiding herself for her slight lack of manners.

The two men shook hands and smiled congenially, if a little tensely, at one another.

"I didn't see you on the train, wanted to ask you if you and your family would want to join us for New Year's Eve. We usually have a big bash, it's pretty fun." He asked, slightly nervous, before adding quickly, "If you don't have plans already, of course."

Hazel looked to her father, who shrugged his shoulders, "It'll be just me and the blokes at Steve and Lisa's. You can go if you want." He said.

"Yeah, alright, I'll be there. My grandparents might come too. I'll ask when we get home and owl you their answer?" she confirmed with Fred, who nodded.

"Yeah, yeah, the more the merrier." He said, hearing his mother call his name in the distance. He bid Hazel and her father a Merry Christmas before walking over to his family with a noticeable spring in his step.

"Well, c'mon. Don't want to miss our train home!" Daniel said, ushering his daughter away from the handsome young man.

* * *

Sooner than expected it was Christmas Eve, also known as the busiest shopping day of the year. And in Herrod's Rare and Collectible Books, it truly showed. Hazel and her father were on their feet all day restocking shelves, ringing customers' purchases, and making sales. When they finally closed Hazel started running the day's numbers and Daniel sat down in a chair next to her, eyes drooping as though he would fall asleep at any moment.

Hazel rechecked her math. No way was it possible that they had broken ten thousand pounds in one day. She checked it again, and then again before tapping her father's shoulder.

Daniel's eyes snapped open and he leapt out of his seat, punching the air. "Whooo! Yeah! I'm going to get some champagne, meet me upstairs!" he said, grabbing his coat off the back of the chair and dashing out the door.

Hazel put the money in the safe, locked the doors, and shut off the lights before heading up the stairs to the cozy flat. She and her father retired for the evening in front of the television watching old _Doctor Who_ reruns and drinking their way through two bottles of champagne to celebrate the biggest day of sales in the shop's history.

"Hey Dad?" she slurred as she headed to bed.

"Yeah, Haze?" he asked from the living room.

"We're awesome." She stated, not waiting for her father's response before she shut the door and tumbled into her bed.

* * *

Christmas morning Hazel awoke to the smell of bacon and the sound of off-tune Christmas carols coming from the kitchen. She walked out of her room sleepily and greeted her father as he handed her a plate full of breakfast. She sat at the small kitchen table and started eating, her head pounding slightly from the previous night. She hadn't been that drunk, she thought, but the bacon and coffee were helping considerably.

At about half-nine Hazel turned around in her seat to look through the doorway into the living room. She was surprised to see a pile of presents there, as she and her father only gave gifts to each other.

"Your classmates decided they like you this year or what?" her father asked, seeing her notice the pile.

"We usually exchange gifts before break, but this year there was no time. Exams and such." Hazel explained, still looking at the pile as Leia rubbed against her leg.

"Oh go ahead. You'll hurt your neck if you keep staring like that." He said, motioning for her to go. Typically, they didn't touch gifts until after they had both eaten breakfast, but Daniel could see the eager look in her eyes. He put his eggs on a plate and grabbed his coffee before joining her in the living room.

All told, her friends knew her well. From Angelina, she had gotten some of the garish socks from Gladrags' they had laughed about on the last Hogsmeade trip. Veronica had gotten her a signed poster of the Weird Sisters, her favorite Wizard band. Lee gave her a box of chocolate frogs, each with a different flavored jelly inside. George sent her a book of prank charms with a note simply saying, "For inspiration…"

There was one more package under the tree that was clearly not from her father. She reached for it and pulled the string and the brown paper off of the thin, rectangular package and beamed when she saw what it was. Inside the delicate silver frame was a moving picture of the two of them from the previous year's Gryffindor Christmas party. Because of the attacks on students, smaller parties in each house's common room replaced the normal Christmas feast.

After a few butterbeers she had sat down next to Fred and they started talking about things she couldn't remember. Colin Creevey, the obnoxious first year with the camera, begged to take their picture.

"One, two, three!" he said, taking the picture. Before the three, Hazel turned her head and kissed Fred's cheek. That was the picture in the delicate silver frame. Hazel and Fred, red-cheeked and smiling, then Hazel turning her head and kissing Fred's cheek. Fred's smile widened just before the picture started over.

"That's a…nice picture," her father said from over her shoulder.

"Thanks." She said quietly, "Now you open your gifts!" she changed the subject and added the photo to her pile on the couch.

She handed him both packages she had gotten for him in Hogsmeade. It was difficult shopping for Muggles in an all-wizarding village, but she could usually find him something good. This year it was a lovely cable knit jumper that changed colors every day, "No Spells Needed!" and a book about dragons from the 1750s. He raved about his gifts, as he always did, and Hazel felt all warm and fuzzy inside.

Christmas had always been her favorite holiday, not because of the getting of gifts, but because she genuinely enjoyed giving gifts. She loved figuring out what she knew of her friends and the hunt for the perfect gift. She only wished she could see their faces when they opened their gifts. This year she had gotten Veronica a tube of everlasting lipstick in a trampy shade of red that Veronica would love. For the twins she had made them trick boxes of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. The trick was that, despite looking like the many different flavors, they were all the same flavor; bogie. Angelina received a signed copy of Francis J. Harriet's book, _My Time with the Harpies._ Lee had gotten a new Gryffindor scarf, as his had blown away during the Ravenclaw/Hufflepuff game.

That evening she and her father set out in their little car to her grandparents' large mansion. As they pulled up to the front door Hazel marveled at the Georgian beauty. It was the kind of place that made Hazel think of Pemberley from _Pride and Prejudice,_ or of Brideshead from _Brideshead Revisited._

Her grandparents' house had always made Hazel a little uncomfortable. Once inside she was always treated like the heiress she was, though nothing else in her life made her feel like that. When her grandfather retired, Hazel's squib Uncle Leonard would inherit the estate and the business, but after he retired the entire lot would go to Hazel (as Leonard was well into his forties and still single with no prospects on the horizon).

Because of his status as a squib, Leonard had received a Muggle education and gone to University, so he was quite intelligent. The business would be in good hands, but he lived in a small cottage on the property and much preferred the company of his parents' small parliament of owls to that of humans. He was a bit peculiar.

Tonight, he had dragged a comb through his thinning hair and put on his best pair of trousers and a shirt that wasn't stained.

"Looks like Leonard dressed up for the occasion." Daniel commented to his daughter as the house elf Gingy took their coats. Hazel stifled a laugh before she greeted her grandparents, Angus and Renatta Nithercott. Both were dressed sharply, her grandfather in a forest green suit and her grandmother in a scarlet sheath dress that looked like she had torn it straight off of Zelda Fitzgerald's back.

"Hazel, dear, so glad to see you!" Renatta cooed, bringing her granddaughter into a warm hug. The unpleasantness of the letters apparently forgotten, which Hazel was grateful for.

"Good to see you, Gran, you look lovely tonight." Hazel complimented as she pulled back from the hug.

"Thank you dear, now I want to hear all about your term at Hogwarts!" the elderly woman said, hooking her arm through her granddaughter's and leading her away into the formal parlor, leaving Daniel and Angus standing in the foyer awkwardly.

Even though Daniel and Laurel had been friends since childhood, Angus had wanted his daughter to marry a wizard. Not a Pureblood, necessarily, but a wizard nonetheless. He was less than pleased when Laurel brought Daniel home, and tried to derail their relationship by presenting her with nice young wizards. Towards the end of his efforts he even brought that Lupin bloke back into the mix, despite his condition. Laurel had her own mind about it though, and she and Daniel had eloped.

Even after the birth of his granddaughter, which had left Angus practically glowing with pride, he still hadn't managed to forgive Daniel Herrod completely. The two men respected each other enough to remain cordial, but that was the extent of their relationship.

The silence that fell between them in the foyer was particularly awkward, as Angus hadn't stopped staring at Daniel through narrowed eyes. Daniel simply shrugged his shoulders at his once father-in-law and entered into the formal parlor, following his daughter.

The Nithercotts' Holiday party was always a big to-do, but this year they seemed to have gone all out. The tree was no less than twenty feet high, topped with a star that seemed to have been plucked from the heavens itself. Daniel got himself some firewhiskey punch and resigned himself to a corner as he often did at his in-laws' shindigs.

Hazel, however, was in the middle of the room chatting with her grandparents' various friends from various walks of life. Mundungus Fletcher asked her about her purported abilities with charms and whether or not she'd be willing to make any up for him ("All on the up and up, a'course, nuttin' shifty," he assured her). Renatta's friend Dolores Hitcher asked how many boyfriends she had ("With a face like that, you must have to beat them off with a stick!" she slurred). The Minister for Magic himself inquired as to her plans after Hogwarts, as he did every year. Hazel gave him her typical answer; that she didn't know for sure, but she did have two family businesses to choose from. She didn't mention curse-breaking for fear that her gran might send her another Howler.

"Well, whatever position you would like at the Ministry is open to you. Your grandfather and I –" he hiccupped, obviously intoxicated, "go further back that I'd care to admit." He said, clapping her on the back before catching sight of another acquaintance across the room and stumbling over his polished shoes towards him.

Hazel was becoming quite overwhelmed by all of the people interested in her life, so she excused herself to the washroom. As she splashed some cold water on her face, she thought to herself about the future. In a few months, she would meet with Professor McGonagall and go over her future job prospects. She did have two paths in front of her; the family businesses, or her own career. She had no idea which one she wanted. Did she want a career in the wizarding world or in her fathers'? Did she want to shoulder the weight of not one, but two legacies or did she want to strike out on her own?

 _Two roads diverged in a yellow wood..._ she thought bitterly, recalling the words of Muggle poet Robert Frost. She toweled off her face and threw the towel into the sink, pushing the decision to the back of her mind for the time being. She had to get through her O.W.L.s first. She peeked around the corner as she exited the bathroom and, seeing that the corridor was clear, snuck off of to the library.

She had spent many an afternoon perusing the books on the numerous shelves in the room. Even as a young child with no knowledge of the magical world to which she belonged, she read volume upon volume of magical histories and books on charms and potions. In the back of her mind she knew they were genuine, but she never let on to her father.

"Ah, Hazel, thought I'd find you here." Her grandfather said, bustling into the room. Startled, she turned around and smiled at her regal grandfather.

"Looking for something in particular?" she asked, as she knew these shelves almost as well as he did.

"A volume by Mikkelsen on the history of Danish wizards up to 1600. I've got a bet going with Bagman about something." He commented offhandedly, wiping his spectacles on his jacket before inspecting the tomes before him. Hazel walked to his side and joined him. She spotted it and pointed it out to him.

"Aha! There it is! Thank you dear girl." He kissed her forehead and turned to leave, but paused.

"I just want you to know that I meant what I said in my letter. Whatever you want to do, Hazel, is just fine with your grandmother and me."

"Thanks, Grandpa."

* * *

The next few days passed quickly, and Hazel soon found it was New Year's Eve. Since her father had plans with his mates from University and her grandparents were otherwise occupied, Hazel would be attending the Weasley party alone. She had written Fred and received a reply that she now had nestled in her pocket as she rode once again to her grandparents' house. From there she would take the Floo Network to The Burrow (which was an odd name for a house, in Hazel's opinion). She would spend the night there, and then come back the following day to pack up for her return to school.

"Now, Hazel…I want you to know that I trust you." Her father said nervously, keeping his eyes on the road and tapping his fingers on the steering wheel of his Geo.

"I trust you too, Dad." She smiled, knowing exactly where this was going.

"No, really Hazel, I completely trust you. Don't make me regret this decision."

"When have I ever?" she asked, lolling her head to the side and catching her father's eye. He laughed and softened, knowing that his trust was well placed.

He pulled up in the drive of his in-laws' mansion and hugged Hazel before she exited the car.

"Have fun, love." He said into her hair.

"You too, Dad." She said. She grabbed her overnight bag out of the back seat, kissed her father on the cheek, and exited the Geo. She waved as he drove away before letting herself into the large wooden doors.

Gingy was there immediately, offering her some tea or a foot massage. Hazel graciously refused, asking which fireplace was connected to the Floo Network. Gingy eagerly showed her to the library, where the fireplace was empty. A letter from her grandparents on the mantle sat in front of a bottle of Nithercott 12 year Firewhiskey. The letter instructed that the bottle was a hostess gift for Mrs. Weasley, and apologized for their absence.

Gingy held up a pot of Floo powder and Hazel took a handful, stepped into the fireplace, and loudly said, "The Burrow!"


	8. And A Happy New Year

**Chapter 8 is here!**

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* * *

Hazel stumbled dizzily out of the fireplace and into a smallish living room, most of which was occupied by a rotund Christmas tree, the rest of the space taken up by people. Even though it was six hours until the New Year, the house was crammed with people chatting and milling about. Not catching any familiar faces, Hazel pushed her way through the crowd and ended up in a long kitchen. In the middle of the kitchen, the lengthy wooden table groaned under the weight of all the food being piled atop it.

A plump, kind-faced woman turned around abruptly, wiping her hands on her apron. She looked Hazel up and down, regarding her for a moment before her face brightened with a smile.

"Oh you must be Hazel! Fred and George have told us so much about you! It's a shame your father couldn't make it, Arthur would've loved to have a Muggle in the house," she fussed, "The boys are upstairs, supper isn't quite ready yet so if you want to head on up they're off the third landing." She said, bustling Hazel over to the staircase and pushing her up it before going to tend to something in the oven.

Dazed by all of the activity in the small house, Hazel began to climb the stairs. After a moment she realized that Mrs. Weasley either hadn't seen or had ignored the bottle of firewhiskey that was still in Hazel's hands. She stopped and looked around, having completely forgotten where Mrs. Weasley told her to go.

Suddenly, two pairs of hands reached out and grabbed Hazel, pulling her backwards through a doorway and tossing her onto a bed. Fred plopped down next to her as George shut the door. Noticing the bottle in her hands, the latter twin raised an eyebrow at her.

"This was supposed to be a hostess gift." Hazel said, answering his unasked question. George took the bottle from her and let out a low whistle.

"Twelve year, wonder what that tastes like." He smirked devilishly.

"Well, since our mother will only drink mulled wine – " Fred started.

"And after a few drinks Dad doesn't care what he goes down his throat – "

"And there's already plenty of booze down there for everyone else…" They kept pushing, so Hazel finally gave in. Taking the bottle back from George, she deftly opened it and took a long pull, coughing as the fire spread through her chest and down into her stomach.

"That's my kind of woman!" Fred exclaimed after he took a drink of his own.

"You're a teenage boy, Fred, _any_ woman is your kind of woman." Hazel joked as George downed a mouthful. The look on his face told Hazel he was not used to the alcohol content of the firewhiskey.

"Fair point." Fred said, noticing how she brushed off his slight compliment.

"Are we going to be up here all night?" Hazel asked, rising from the bed and moving over to the window. The room that the twins obviously shared was shockingly clean. Well, clean- _ish_. More like organized chaos. It looked something like what Hazel imagined the inside of their heads to be. Piles of notebooks, stray papers with half-scrawled ideas, boxes of explosive powders and half-eaten candies, all piled neatly on the pair of bureaus and two desks against opposite walls. The beds were pushed close together in the middle of the room, maybe six inches apart.

"Most like. Mum and Dad's friends descend around three, and don't leave until about twenty-four hours later. They don't mind having us kids out of the way." George explained.

"So are we by ourselves?"

"Basically. Lee was supposed to join us, but ended up going to London with his parents, and Veronica won't get here until nine. Around seven mum will call us down for dinner."

"And we will eat to excess."

"Then we will spend the rest of the night tormenting our siblings…"

"And possibly the party-goers downstairs…"

"And at midnight, we kiss."

Hazel nearly choked on her sip of firewhiskey. "I'm sorry?" she asked between bouts of coughing. Mainly because any combination of the "we" they mentioned would have been incredibly awkward.

They busted out laughing at her naiveté, "Just making sure you were listening." Fred said between bouts of laughter.

"You two are twisted."

"We know." They said together in a way that reminded Hazel of the creepy twin girls from _The Shining_ , one of her favorite films. She took another swig from the bottle to douse the pang of guilt in her chest about leaving her father for the new year before handing it off to Fred.

"Maybe we should go a bit easy on this until we eat something." He said, finding the cap and closing it, noticing Hazel's slight sway as she stood by the window.

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea." She said, swinging over to the bed that Fred sat on. She leaned back, running a hand through her loose hair. "What shall we do in the meantime?"

Fred was momentarily distracted by the scent of her hair as it came wafting over his sheets. Honey and vanilla, with a hint of strawberry. He shook his head slightly as his twin answered.

"Doxies and dragons?" George suggested. Hazel smiled.

"Yeah, alright. Fred, Doxy or Dragon?" she asked, turning her blue eyes to him.

"Dragon." He said without hesitation. Hazel lay back fully on his bed and sighed, trying to think of a good dare for Fred.

"Alright, I've got it. Go steal Percy's Head Boy badge!" she said.

Fred ran over a quick plan in his head. Percy would most likely be downstairs hobnobbing with their father's Ministry friends to score a job that summer. If he were trying to get a job, he would definitely have his Head Boy badge proudly displayed on his pompous chest. He smirked as he rummaged through a desk drawer, extracted something small and black, then left the room without saying a word.

"What do you think he's going to do?" Hazel asked, turning her head in the general direction of George. She knew she had drank too much too fast, as it had hit her like a train. Her limbs felt heavy, as if she were floating in water.

Before he could answer, they heard screams from downstairs, followed by a few spells and Mrs. Weasley's voice shouting up the stairs after Fred, who slammed himself against the door. He looked as if he was covered in soot, but held out a gleaming Head Boy badge that had a bit of checkered fabric still attached to it.

Hazel and George rushed over to him, Hazel almost instantly regretting the decision as she felt the whiskey slide down her veins, all the way to her feet. That was never a good sign.

"Got too close to the point of impact with the Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder. George, doxy or dragon?" he asked his twin, tossing the badge on the bed and shaking his head, the soot flying everywhere. George, not to be outdone by his twin, picked dragon as well.

"Alright, George, go test this, this and…this, outside the kitchen window." Fred said, selecting what looked to be three different fireworks from a box next to his bed and passing them to George, whose face was twisted up in a knowing smile.

"You bloody bastard." He said, still smiling as he left the room. Hazel and George followed close behind and crouched on the stairs while George snuck out the kitchen door. Mrs. Weasley was humming along with a Celestina Warbeck song that played on the radio as she decorated some holiday cookies. She looked so peaceful, and a wave of remorse hit Hazel as she realized the kindly woman's fate.

 _BANG!_ George had lit the first one off and it had exploded just outside the window, filling it with large green sparks. The piping bag of frosting Mrs. Weasley had been holding was now empty, its contents sprayed out on the tray of cookies. She recovered from her shock long enough to open her mouth, but before she could start screaming at her son, _BANG!_

The second was a small blue explosion that started a chain reaction of even smaller, but curiously louder, explosions went off closer to the kitchen door. Mrs. Weasley, her composure completely regained now that she realized what was happening, grabbed her wand and doused the firework.

Hazel and Fred were doing their best to stifle their laughter as Mrs. Weasley yelled, "Alright, out with it! Show me the last one and get your bum back upstairs!"

The last one was the loudest, causing the entire kitchen to shake and rattle as if the house were about to fall down. Mrs. Weasley's face blanched as the fiery face of a dragon looked at her from outside the kitchen window. It roared, then disappeared in a blaze of red pops.

As George dashed back through the kitchen, Hazel could hear Mrs. Weasley swatting at him with the wooden spoon, yelling words like, "Company!" and "Dangerous!" and "Rapscallion!" as they fled back up to the boys' room.

Out of breath from laughing and running, the three of them collapsed in a heap on the floor, the occasional giggle setting them off again. Once they finally calmed down and caught their breath George asked, "Hazel, doxy or dragon?"

"Doxy."

"If Fred asked you to kiss him at midnight, would you say yes?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I? It's just a stupid tradition." She shrugged. "I'd kiss you too."

"It's because I'm better looking." George said.

"We're twins, you bloody moron." Fred pushed his brother's shoulder.

"That's the point!"

"Fred, doxy or dragon?" Hazel asked, intent on keeping the game going.

They played until Mrs. Weasley called them down for dinner. Each of the twins brought a heaping plate back up to their room, while Hazel only grabbed a few rolls and stuffed them with meat. She needed something to help soak up the firewhiskey.

After dinner the twins, emboldened by their full stomachs, cracked into the bottle again, each alternating swigs. As it was growing darker outside the window, they lit some candles to ward off the encroaching blackness. However, their game of doxies and dragons quickly devolved into just doxies as they got lazy and started to digest. Veronica arrived a bit later and joined in, happily interrogating them based on her vast expertise of the rumor mill of Hogwarts.

The four of them sat on the floor of the boys' room, a small cluster of short, thick candles in the center as they passed to bottle around.

"Oi, Hazel, what exactly happened with you and Wood on Halloween?" George asked as he swayed while sitting upright against the foot of his bed.

"We had sex, what did you think happened?"

"Was he your first?" Fred asked lazily, twirling a quill between his fingers as he lay on the floor. Hazel ignored the question and grabbed the bottle from where it sat on the floor.

"C'mon, Hazel, tell them!" Veronica urged, "If you don't I will." She threatened.

"Fine. No, Oliver wasn't my first." Both boys sat bolt upright at this.

"When did it happen the first time?"

"Last summer." Hazel answered in a very matter-of-fact tone, shrugging as she looked away. Fred's brow furrowed the way it did when he was confused or trying to work something out.

"Hold on, with who?" he asked incredulously. "Certainly no one at Hogwarts."

"Well, no one _else_ at Hogwarts." George joked, an evil grin spreading across his face.

Hazel sighed, "You two forget, but I went to a Muggle school for six years before I started at Hogwarts. I've still got Muggle friends in York that I see every summer." She teased a bit, not noticing how Fred's hands clenched a bit before he forced them to relax.

"What was his name?" he asked, trying to seem as casual as possible. He didn't know why this was bothering him so much.

"Why does that matter?"

"It just…does…" Fred said, trying to appear nonchalant.

"Ewan Jenkins." She offered quietly.

"You lost it to a _Muggle_? Named _Ewan_?" George asked, busting out laughing.

"Well I don't see you two doing any better with the girls at Hogwarts." She crossed her arms defensively, leaning back against Fred's bed.

"Last I heard one of you was groping Loretta Sharpe, and that was just after term started." Veronica confirmed, looking between the twins.

"That would have been Freddie boy here. And, yes, unfortunately we are in a bit of a dry season." George said mournfully, glancing over at his twin.

"Our charms are lost on them, that's all. Maybe we should get one of those witches from the ads at the back of the Zonko's newsletter." Fred smiled.

"What? I have to see this!" Veronica said as Fred fished under the bed. He tossed the crumpled magazine at her and she eagerly flipped to the back, bursting out in laughter.

"I don't believe it! 'Your most wicked fantasies brought to life'!" she exclaimed, tossing her head back hysterically. For some reason, most likely the firewhiskey, Veronica was howling like a banshee at the moving picture of the scantily clad witch practicing fellatio with her wand.

"'Need someone to _weigh your wand_?'" Hazel read in an obnoxiously overdrawn seductive tone. Other ads promised, _Potions to help with size, strength, and stamina!_ and _Charm your way into her heart with Bartleby's Book of Beguiling Charms!_

"What? I hadn't seen that one!" George moved to sit next to her and took the magazine from her hands, inspecting the advertisement.

"Wicked fantasies, eh? Might need to send that one an owl." Fred joked in a very blasé manner, leaning on his side and resting on his elbow.

"Oh, Fred, you could never be that wicked." Hazel commented casually, flicking back through the magazine.

"Is that her _whole_ wand?" Veronica said, peering through her glasses. George looked closer.

"Yep. The whole dang thing."

"Must be a trick of the light." Veronica said, stretching her back. "I'm sick of sitting, we could do with some dancing."

"What the lady wants, the lady gets." George said, extracting a small wireless radio from on top of the desk. He turned it on and Fred moved the candles out of the way. All of them stood still, looking each other awkwardly as classical music poured out of the speaker.

Hazel crossed to the radio and adjusted it to a louder station, turning the radio's volume knob all the way up. As she stood and turned around, she saw the boys and Veronica dancing badly, thrusting their arms and legs about like drunken monkeys. She smiled and bounced over to them, dancing badly right alongside them.

The firewhiskey proved very helpful in not caring that they all looked like idiots as they pounded through the next few songs, bouncing around the small bedroom so loudly that their younger brother Ron came to see if anything was about to explode. The twins promptly told him to shove off and slammed the door in his face.

After Ron left the room, the song changed to a slower, sadder tune. George and Veronica flopped on the bed, exhausted, her head landing on his outstretched arm. Hazel moved over to the radio, intent on turning it off but Fred grabbed her hand and spun her around, crashing his body into hers.

"What're you doing?" Hazel asked quietly. Fred took her left hand in his and put her right on his shoulder, placing his remaining hand gently on her waist as he swayed in time with the music.

"The hell does it look like?" he teased. They had never, to Hazel's knowledge, been this close. His chest was a mere inch from hers and she could feel his warm breath on her ear as he touched his cheek to her temple. Hazel's pulse pounded in her ears and she could feel her palms begin to sweat. Suddenly, the room got smaller and the warm air got thicker, the firewhiskey in her stomach started to burn its way up her throat and she felt as if she couldn't breathe. Black spots swam into her eyes, and, unceremoniously dropping Fred's hands, she bolted from the room, leaving him to stare confusedly at the door for a few seconds before following her.

Hazel dashed down the stairs, through the throngs of people occupying the Weasley's main floor, and out into the cold night air. She gasped for air as if she had been submerged underwater for hours and doubled over, resting her hands on her thighs as she tried to catch her breath.

"Hazel? Hazel?" Fred called, catching sight of her at the edge of the yard and jogging over, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to – "

"No, it's not that." She lied, her head swimming in what felt like a lake of firewhiskey. The cold air was helping clear her thoughts a bit, but when she rose to her full height she stumbled back a bit. Fred caught her and guided her over to a small bench by a tree.

"What's wrong?" he asked, rubbing her back gently.

She let out a long breath and answered, "Fucking firewhiskey. Crept up on me."

"You sure that's it?" he checked.

"Why do you call it the Burrow if it doesn't go underground?" she countered, looking up and gesturing to the large, tilted tower of a house. Fred simply shrugged.

"Dunno. Wasn't around when they named it." He answered simply. They were silent for a minute; the only sounds the noises of the partygoers inside the house. Before they knew it, the shouts became distinguishable as they counted down to the New Year.

"Ten! Nine! Eight!" they shouted. Hazel looked over at Fred, the warm glow of the party setting his bright red hair on fire. She moved closer and threaded her fingers through his fire hair and found that it was, in fact, as soft as it looked.

"Seven! Six! Five!" Fred saw the reflection of the stars in her glassy eyes as she gazed up at him. His hand came to rest on the small of her back and he pulled her closer.

"Four! Three! Two!" Up in the boys' bedroom where Fred and Hazel had left them, Veronica and George were full on snogging.

"One! Happy New Year!" the shouts from the house came, along with a very off-tune, drunken version of "Auld Lang Syne."

Fred, encouraged by the firewhiskey that was still making his world a little swimmy, moved closer to Hazel who, seemingly reading his mind, met his lips halfway to hers. Hazel could feel a volcano erupt in her chest, but not because of the passion of the moment.

She broke the kiss and vomited on the ground in front of her, the firewhiskey burning even more as it came back up. Fred leapt to his feet to avoid getting it on his shoes and, careful to avoid the splash zone, gingerly lifted her hair out of her face and held it at the nape of her neck with one hand and rubbed her back with the other.

When Hazel finished, she sat back on the bench and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Y'know, if you didn't want to kiss me you could've just said something." Fred teased, tugging on her hair a little as he let go of it. She laughed weakly and hit him square in the chest.

"Oh bugger off." She felt tired and sick, as if her insides all wanted to escape through her mouth.

"Can I get you anything? Water, breath mint?"

"Inside would be nice." She said, "If you would like to give me a hand."

Fred started clapping and she shot him a look. He smiled and held out his right hand to her, carefully guiding her around the pile of vomit, and leading her back into the house.

* * *

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	9. The Urge to Run Away

**Hello dear readers! [Disclaimer here] Quick warning, this chapter starts with MATURE CONTENT.**

 **Due to the overwhelming outpouring of love I've received in the last few days I decided to post the next chapter a bit earlier than expected!**

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* * *

 _Hazel was on fire. At least, that's what it felt like. His lips were on her neck, her jawline, her cheeks, everywhere at once while one of his hands was stroking her most sensitive spot and the other massaged her breast. She moaned loudly; she was close. So close to release that she almost didn't notice when his lips were on hers again, his tongue expertly massaging hers. Her breath quickened and she was about to cry out when she caught a glimpse of his flaming red hair and maple eyes that burned with desire…_

* * *

Hazel awoke with a jolt the next morning with a pounding head, a gurgling stomach, and an arm wrapped around her waist. She tried to sit up, but the arm groaned and pulled her closer. She turned her head and saw Fred's sleeping face behind her and, past him, Veronica and George were sleeping in a similar position.

She slowly snuck out of his grasp, gently lifting his arm off of her and putting it back down. His sleeping face looked so peaceful and Hazel noticed how very handsome he was for the hundredth time as she gathered her things, wrote a quick note to her sleeping friends, and left the room.

The entire house was asleep as she crept down the creaky, winding staircase and into the living room. She discovered much to her chagrin that every horizontal space was taken up by a sleeping body. Since most of them had red hair, she assumed the party last night had been mostly relatives. Performing her best _en pointe_ routine, she tiptoed her way over and around the sleeping guests to get to the fireplace. As quietly as she could, she said, "Nithercott Manor!" while throwing the dusty powder at her feet.

* * *

Fred awoke when the sunlight finally managed to creep up into the window. He turned over and flung his arm over what he had hoped would be Hazel, but was instead a folded piece of parchment. He opened his eyes, blinking against the bright light of morning, and brought the crumpled note to his face.

 _'Fred,_

 _So sorry about last night! I will make it up to you, I swear!_

 _Veronica,_

 _Owl me later._

 _George,_

 _I really have nothing to say to you, but didn't want you to feel left out!_

 _Please thank your mother and apologize for me slipping out early, I had a blast last night! See you all on the train tomorrow!_

 _Hazel'_

Fred was heavily disappointed that she hadn't stayed. He remembered the previous night, helping her up the stairs back to his room and kicking out a heavily snogging George and Veronica. He had emptied out a bucket of fireworks and put it at the edge of the bed after gently placing her on it.

He turned to wish her good night, but she was already fast asleep on his bed. She slept on her stomach, arms tucked underneath her, with her hair spread out behind her. She slept so peacefully that Fred thought it would be a crime to wake her. He bent over and brushed a few strands out of her hair away from her face, kissing her forehead as gently as a butterfly landing on a leaf before crawling in next to her.

It was the best sleep he'd gotten in a long, long time.

* * *

Hazel opened the door to the flat as quietly as possible after bidding Gingy farewell, as the house-elf had apparated her home. She helped herself to a large glass of water and some Muggle pain relievers she found on the vanity in her room. She stood in the kitchen, her head pounding in her hands when she heard footsteps.

"Getting home kind of late, aren't we?" a voice said from behind her. She jumped and turned around to see her father exit his bedroom and enter the loo.

"Shh…" she said as he slammed the door. She heard the toilet flush and he slammed the door on his way out, making Hazel flinch again.

"Bit hungover, love?" he asked, not at all sarcastically.

Hazel groaned as she looked through the refrigerator, trying to find something to eat.

"As if you aren't?" she retorted, extracting some marmalade. She started toasting some bread as her father shuffled into the kitchen.

"Yeah, but I'm the dad. I _get_ to be hungover. You, young lady, are still underage. Even in the magical world." He chastised lightly, pouring coffee into the coffeemaker.

"You trust me, remember?" her toast popped up and she spread some of the marmalade on it, offering a slice to her dad. He took it.

"Aye, I do. I just don't want this to become a habit. Someone's got to be responsible enough to run the shop for a few hours today." He explained, only half-joking about the shop. He wasn't planning on opening on New Year's Day. Nothing was open; no one needed Rare or Collectible books today.

Hazel laughed; her mother's laugh Daniel thought as she poured him a cup of coffee and slid it over the counter to him. "You never open on holidays."

"Yeah, you're right. I was thinking we could go catch a film or something. _Schindler's List_ is playing up the street. You were heartbroken you couldn't see it when it premiered, remember?" He offered, smiling as his daughter's eyes lit up. She looked so much like her mother; wild whiskey-colored hair, a kind, oval face, and the same slender body. But she had Daniel's large crystalline blue eyes. He loved that they shared their sizeable, trusting eyes. His wife Laurel had had hazel eyes, funnily enough.

"Alright, yeah." She said, adding sugar and cream to her coffee. They sat in the living room, each nursing their own hangover and eating breakfast as they watched the morning news.

"Authorities in Scotland have officially scaled back their search for escaped convict, simply known as S. Black, who was spotted in the area near Dufftown in early October. There have been no sightings of the dangerous criminal since, but a police spokesperson has said that should anyone spot him not to engage, for he is believed armed and dangerous." The news anchor said.

"Is that Black character still on the loose?" her dad asked casually. Angus and Renatta had made it pretty damn clear that he wasn't to let on that he had known Sirius.

"Yeah. He uh…broke into the school on Halloween. Did I forget to mention that?" she admitted halfheartedly, trying to downplay the incident and hoping he didn't probe further.

But he did, "What? How did he get in? Aren't there guards at that ruddy school of yours?"

"I don't know how he got in, and there _are_ guards. Very scary ones. And Dumbledore is there. We're all perfectly safe…" she explained.

"Doesn't sound very safe to me."

"Did I also mention that Sirius Black was mum's cousin?" she hated lying to her father, even by omission.

"So you're related to this psycho?" he said darkly. Hazel could hear the anger and disappointment brimming in his voice.

"Uh-huh." She replied quietly, sipping her coffee and looking away from him.

"Psycho killer, qu'est-ce que c'est?" he sang, trying to lighten the mood.

"Fa-fa fa fa fa-fa fa fa fa fa, you better," she sang back.

"Run run run run, run run run away!" they finished the Talking Heads song together, singing loudly and badly and not caring. Since Daniel had been twenty when Hazel was born, he was still pretty cool when it came to his taste in music and movies. She had grown up listening to all of his favorite bands, dancing in the living room with him to the sounds of R.E.M., Talking Heads, and Queen, among many, many others. In the summers, they would sometimes go to concerts together, and each had a rather impressive collection of t-shirts from said concerts. Hazel was currently wearing her The Cure shirt from when they had gone to see them last year in Manchester.

"I'm going to hop in the shower, what time is the film?" she asked.

"You've got a while yet. I'll clean up out here." He said and she disappeared around the corner.

The water felt cool against her skin. She could feel her body recovering from the night before, but her mind was still in shambles. Fred had kissed her at midnight, and then she had gotten sick all over him. She had fallen into a drunken sleep (more like passed out) before she could say she was sorry. This morning, upon discovering his arm around her, she had panicked and left, again before she could apologize to him.

She would do it on the train tomorrow, she decided. For today, she was going to enjoy her last day with her father until April.

* * *

Hazel boarded the Hogwarts Express, stored her things in a cabin with Lee and Angelina, and on her way to the toilet was immediately waylaid by a very jittery Veronica, who shoved her into the loo and shut the door.

"Hazel, I made a HUGE mistake. Bold it, italicize it, and underline it. HUGE!" the brunette said, wringing her hands and looking about, her eyes unable to find a suitable resting spot.

"Okay, okay, what happened?"

"Well, after you and Fred ran out the other night, George and I were left alone. One thing led to another and we ended up in their brothers' old room and…" she trailed off, biting her lower lip nervously, avoiding Hazel's gaze.

It took her a moment to catch what her friend was saying, "Wait, you and George… _went all the way_?" she whispered. Veronica's big green eyes met hers and welled with tears as she nodded.

"But what about Cedric?" Hazel asked. Veronica's face scrunched up and the tears fell down her face.

"I know. I can't stand knowing that I h-hurt him as much as I did! H-he's going to b-break up with me! I'm h-hor-horrible!" she bawled, gripping Hazel's sweatshirt as Hazel wrapped her arms around her friend. She was at a loss for words. For all of the sensational gossip Veronica told, she was far too moral of a person to purposefully hurt someone she loved.

"Shh…it'll be alright. Maybe he'll understand?" she offered, not really believing it herself.

"He won't! Hazel, he's going to hate me!" Veronica whimpered, Hazel's favorite zip-up now becoming quite damp.

"Yes. He will. But you know what? He'll get over it. And so will you. Keeping this to yourself is…well, dishonest and downright cruel. He deserves to know." Hazel decided her friend needed tough love as she dropped her arms and held her at arm's length. Or, as much of arm's length as the small WC would allow. She gently wiped off some of the mascara that had smudged on Veronica's face and smoothed her chestnut hair.

"You're right. I know you're right. I'm just…not looking forward to this." Veronica sniffled and straightened herself up.

"Can I ask you one question?" Hazel queried before her friend could open the door. Veronica nodded, "How was it?"

Veronica smiled to herself, "For two first-timers, I'd say pretty good."

"Two? Wait, you and Cedric never - ?"

"Nope. Which is what makes this _extra_ horrible." Veronica looked as if she were about to cry again, but managed to swallow the cold lump of shame and it passed down to the pit in her stomach as she opened the door and went looking for her soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend.

Hazel was left with more questions than she got answered, and hadn't even gotten the chance to tell Veronica about her night (or lack thereof) with a Weasley twin. However, these questions seemed to slip out of her mind, as she was still reeling from what Veronica had done. Veronica and George had sex? Veronica was a virgin? Veronica cheated on Cedric? George managed to handle Veronica?

Her thoughts still moving a million miles per hour, Hazel made her way down the corridor, looking for her compartment with Lee and Angelina. She found it and entered, not noticing that the Weasley Twins now occupied two seats.

"Speak of the dragon." Fred's voice rang throughout the cabin.

"Hello Fred, George." She said coolly, sitting across from them.

"I was just filling in Lee here about what he missed on New Year's." George explained.

" _Everything_ he missed on New Years?" Hazel asked dubiously.

George shot her a pointed look, "Yes, _everything_."

"Then this should make perfect sense. Fred, can I talk to you a moment?" she said, motioning to the door with her head.

"You can talk to me for several moments, love." He said, standing and ushering her out of the compartment. They took a few steps down the hall and she stopped him,

gently guiding him out of the way of a few third years as they passed. She could feel his bicep under his thin t-shirt and her heart thudded in her chest. They stood next to the window of the train, Hazel glancing nervously at the passing landscape.

"I'm sorry about New Year's. I really didn't mean to – "

"To blow chunks right after I kissed you?" Fred finished. The look on his face was light, like the look he often had when teasing her.

A blush crept up into her cheeks, "Yeah, that."

He lightheartedly tapped her upper arm. "It happens, especially when copious amounts of firewhiskey are involved."

"I just didn't want you to think that kissing you is what caused the blowing of chunks. It's not. Not even close."

"You sure about that?" he closed the distance between them as Hazel tapped on the window absentmindedly.

"Yes, I'm sure. I felt just awful, especially after I just snuck out the next morning."

"That was a major blow to my confidence, by the way." He mentioned, "First time I've got a girl in my bed, she scarpers off."

"Because you've got a _problem_ with confidence." She said sarcastically, noticing how close he was. His familiar scent wafted into her nose.

"Yeah, you left before I could wake up and tell you how pretty you are in the morning. I had a speech prepared and everything." He said.

"I had to get home. I felt like absolute shite, figured I should go." She explained, looking out the window again.

"Why do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"You always ignore my compliments. Why do you do that?" He said, getting even closer. She looked up into his eyes.

"I don't know. I think it's because you can be so…" she trailed off, not wanting to say what was in her head and drive him away. She liked when he was in such close proximity to her; mere inches separated them.

"So _what_?" he whispered, bringing his face closer to hers and raising a hand to her cheek. Before she knew it his lips were on hers and every inch of her body tingled as if an electric current was running through her. He stroked her cheek gently and parted his lips, but before she could part hers she backed up, breaking the kiss and cutting the current.

"I'm sorry. I can't." she said, bringing her fingers to her lips which were still warm from contact with his.

"Can't or won't?"

"Fred, please understand! I've made such a mess of things already this year that I – I shouldn't be with anyone. I need to concentrate on O.W.L.s and just take some time off with the whole dating thing."

Fred's expression darkened, "Yeah. I understand." He turned and stalked away, hands clenched into fists.

"Devious." She sighed, completing her thought from earlier before going to find the trolley lady and drown the last few minutes of her memory with the help of Chocolate Frogs.

* * *

After settling down in her dorm Hazel reached over to the pile of books on her windowsill, searching for _The Princess Bride_. Not seeing it, she looked through her trunk and under her bed, then headed down to the common room.

"Shit! Shit shit shit!" she swore to herself. Anxiety started to flood her mind as she frantically scoured piles of papers and searched over or under every furniture piece in the wide room. She pushed a group of first-years out of their alcove where they were studying,

"What's the problem, Hazel?" Oliver asked, poking his gorgeous head around the corner and into the alcove. At this point, she didn't care that Oliver was so close to her when she would have preferred him far, far away.

"I can't find my book … _The Princess Bride._ "

" _The Princess Bride_?"

"Yeah, it was in my dorm before break and now I can't find it." She lifted pillows off of a dusty old chair in the corner and dug behind the cushion.

"Why are you so frantic? Just a book, isn't it?" Oliver asked, standing and joining her hunt.

"It's a first edition! _And_ it's signed! _And_ my dad gave it to me!" she said, her voice growing tight and her limbs moving erratically as she threw pillows and cushions to the floor. She stopped suddenly and breathed heavily through clenched teeth. Oliver rushed over and sat her down on the cushion-less chair. Her breathing quickened and her eyes darted around, her heart was racing and it felt like an elephant was standing on her chest. She could feel the chill of terror racing through her veins, and her hands became clammy.

She knew that she was having a panic attack. It hadn't happened in a long time, not since before Hogwarts, but she still recognized the signs. Oliver was asking her questions that she couldn't hear because the anxiety had her blood rushing past her ears.

"Should I go get Madame Pomfrey? Hazel?" Oliver asked, trying to meet her eyes, which were large and bleary. She began trembling so badly that Oliver could see it.

"N-No." she said, finally able to hear that question.

"Then tell me five things you can see."

"W-what?"

"Five things you can see, go." He demanded.

"Uh, that chair. The fireplace, the Gryffindor banner, my shoes, and you."

"Great, four things you can touch."

"The table. The floor. The silly textured wallpaper and that jumper you're wearing that looks extra soft."

"Three things you can hear."

"Lee and George over there. The crackle of the fire. Some first years gabbing about classes."

"Two things you can smell."

"Chocolate frogs and," she took a deep breath, "your cologne."

"Last one, one thing you can taste."

"I can still taste my pumpkin juice from dinner, does that count?"

He smirked, "Yeah, I think it does."

She felt better, but still a bit anxious. Her palms were still sweating, but her heart rate had gone down and her breathing had steadied.

"How long have you had these sort of attacks?" Oliver asked.

"I used to have them a lot when I was a kid. Haven't had one in about six years. Still sucks." She didn't know why she was being so truthful with him, but something told her she needed to be truthful in order to get over her panic attack.

"Why did you have them?" Oliver questioned. Hazel's eyes shot toward him, focusing on his features. It was the first time she had told anyone about this, so she tried to calm herself as best she could.

"I was in a car crash with my grandparents when I was six. We collided with a semi truck. Whole front end was smashed in, including my grandparents. I was left in the car for twenty-seven minutes before help arrived. There were some after effects…" she cleared her throat and asked him, "What was that little trick? With the sensing things?"

"It's called grounding. My sister Clare used to have anxiety attacks so we all learned how to help her cope with it. Naming the things you can taste, smell, et cetera helps you become aware of your surroundings and distract you from the anxiety."

"How is she now?"

"Much better. She got married last summer."

"That's nice."

Oliver stared at her for a moment, then patted her knee, "You look loads better. Think you can stand up?" He offered his hands to her and she took them. He helped her stand up and take a few steps out of the alcove. He knees were a bit weak, but felt better after a few steps. Oliver led her over to the stairs up to the girls' dorm.

"Thanks Oliver. I'm going to go to bed. Long day." She said, letting go of his hands.

"You're welcome, Hazel. Have a good night." He said, watching as she climbed the stairs to make sure she got up okay. He let out a long sigh, and felt a pang of something akin to affection for her.


	10. Is This What Peace Feels Like?

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* * *

Fred watched as Hazel tore down the stairs and started ripping apart the common room. He could see the panic in her eyes and the jerkiness of her movements that indicated terror. He wanted to get up and help her, but his ass was rooted to his chair. She didn't want him. Not until after O.W.L.s, and even then there was no guarantee. So he sat and watched as Oliver stood and went to help her.

"Fred, mate, you still with me?" Lee asked, waving his Exploding Snap cards in front of Fred's dazed face.

"Yeah, sorry." He said, keeping an eye on Hazel and Oliver out of the corner of his eye. He watched that git Oliver console her and lead her over to the dormitory stairs and watch her go up. It took all of Fred's willpower not to go shake him until his Quidditch-obsessed head fell right off his big thick neck.

"Your turn Fred." George nudged his twin with his elbow.

"I'm going to bed. Long day." He said, throwing down his cards. One of them exploded and sent the small pile of knuts and sickles flying.

"C'mon, man, one more hand!" Lee begged.

"I was losing anyway. See you tomorrow." He explained flippantly. He climbed the stairs and entered the dorm he shared with four other boys, flopped down on his bed, and pulled _The Princess Bride_ out from under his pillow and picked up where he had left off before break.

"Aah, Cliffs of Insanity, my kind of place. Wonder if I can buy property there…build a summer home." He muttered to himself as Fezzik, encumbered by Inigo, Vizzini, and Buttercup, began to climb the cliffs.

* * *

That Sunday, Hazel bundled up as best she could and set out to find Snuffles. The lake was beginning to freeze over and the snow was about six inches deep, so her travels took her a bit longer than usual. Her first stop was Hagrid's hut, where the gentle giant informed her that he hadn't seen the scruffy black dog, but he had been putting food into the tree and every time he did he found it empty.

"So 'e's eatin'. Or the food's bein' stolen by other animals…but I don' think tha's wha's happenin'." He explained, his face going from bright to dour and back to bright within seconds.

"Well, thanks for keeping an eye out. I got you something just as a little thank-you." She said, digging in her bag and retrieving a medium-sized box wrapped in colorful paper. His face lit up as he tore into the paper and opened the box.

"Aw, 'azel, you didn't 'ave to!" he said, extracting the eighteen-year-old bottle of Nithercott's.

"Yes I did. I explained it to my granddad, and he understood. Don't go telling Professor Dumbledore where you got it, mind. I'd be expelled."

"Oh, I won't. Thank you, really. Real nice of yeh to think of me. You should go, looks like it's about to snow. I will keep looking for that pup." He said, ushering her out the door.

Hazel stepped out of the warm hut and looked at the gray sky. She knew Hagrid was right, but headed to the beech tree anyway, hoping to find Snuffles. As she approached the tree, her hope fell as dramatically as the wind started whipping across the lake, blowing feather-light snow in all directions.

She stood at the tree for few minutes or so, one hand on the trunk as she looked over the lake and watched the snow dance across its partially-frozen surface. She silently wished she had brought her ice skates from home as her feet started to freeze. She turned back to the path and promised herself that she would come back the next day and look for Snuffles.

Just as she started up the path, she saw the shaggy dog bounding through the snow at her. She opened up her arms and bent over, crashing into the dog as relief flooded her system. She hugged him tight around the neck as he licked her face.

"You're okay! You're okay! I'm so glad you're okay!" she exclaimed as he tackled her to the ground and continued kissing her. She shivered as the snow melted into her jeans and the water trickled down to her boots. The dog grabbed the sleeve of her coat in his teeth and pulled her in the direction from which he came. She followed, unsure of where she was going until they emerged in front of a large, moving willow tree.

Hazel recognized it immediately as the Whomping Willow and froze in her tracks, trying to stop the dog from moving closer. He barked at her and slipped out of her grasp, deftly avoiding the dangerously swinging branches until he got all the way to the trunk of the tree. He touched it with his nose and the tree stopped moving, its branches suspended in midair. Snuffles barked at her again before disappearing into a hole in the ground next to the base of the tree that she had somehow never noticed before.

He wanted her to follow him into a dark tunnel next to the Whomping Willow. A red flag rose in Hazel's mind, but she pushed it away and ran after the dog, driven mostly by curiosity and the need to know if he was staying in a suitable place. If not, she would sneak him into the castle that night.

The tunnel, surprisingly enough, was rather warm so Hazel took off her scarf and gloves and shoved them in her bag. She retrieved her wand and muttered "Lumos," to light the darkness in front of her. The dirt walls had the roots of the tree above them sticking out all over the place, but they didn't seem to move so Hazel followed the sound of Snuffles' urgent echoing barks. Was this where he was staying? Deep in the tunnels beneath Hogwarts? Or was there someplace at the end of the tunnel?

After walking what had felt like forever, with Snuffles at least twenty paces ahead of her the entire time, they arrived at a rickety wooden door risen about two feet above the tunnel floor. Snuffles stopped and waited for her to catch up, wagging his tail as she approached. He looked up at her with his big puppy dog eyes and tilted his head toward the door, as if urging her to open it. She slowly reached for the handle while watching him as if to gauge his reaction. He moved his head as if to nod, and Hazel pushed the door open.

On the other side of the door was the interior of a little house with boarded up windows and a thick layer of dust covering damn near everything. On her left was the front door (boarded up) and on her right a buckled, crooked staircase that she wouldn't trust with her life. Directly ahead of her was a small sitting room with a squashy-looking sofa and decrepit fireplace, in which some embers were still burning. On the floor there were paw prints leading mostly everywhere, but Hazel saw a pair of human prints as well.

"So this is where you bring all of your caretakers?" she joked to the dog, ruffling his ears as she pulled herself up into the house. Snuffles jumped up after and chuffed happily, prancing around the foyer, leaving more paw prints. This made a lot of the settled dust take to the air, and Hazel began sneezing rapidly. She doused her wand and gestured around the room, "Scourgify!" she managed between sneezes. Instantaneously, the floor in front of her was clean.

"There, that's better," she said, tucking her wand away. "So this is where you've been staying, eh?"

She moved into the sitting room and cleaned it as well, again seeing the human shoe prints in the dust. Shivering slightly, she added two more logs to the fireplace and stoked it. Someone else must be helping Snuffles, she reasoned, and felt a sense of relief. After a moment, curiosity got the better of her and she peeked out of one of the boarded up windows to try and see where they were. She saw a decrepit barbed wire fence about fifty yards away, and in the distance the small village of Hogsmeade.

"The Shrieking Shack!" she exclaimed, suddenly remembering the tales students told about the place in which she stood and becoming paranoid. She retrieved her wand and gripped it tightly, looking about for any sign of ghosts or ghouls or anything that may want to murder her in cold blood.

Snuffles returned from the kitchen and looked at her confusedly, tilting his head from side to side. The sight of the dog helped Hazel relax a bit and she crossed to the sofa, Snuffles joining her. At a loss for anything else to do, she pulled out her Transfiguration notes and started studying.

The house was oddly peaceful save for the occasional groan, as if the house was protesting having to stand. The fire crackled, but unlike in the common room she didn't have the distraction of all the other Gryffindors. In fact, hours of studying passed uninterrupted before Hazel checked her watch and cursed. It was nearly dinnertime, but even if she ran through the passage she would still miss it. Having skipped lunch, her stomach grumbled unhappily so she decided to make a run for it. She gave Snuffles a quick pat on the head and dashed through the wooden door, making sure to close it.

* * *

She arrived in the Entrance Hall quite out of breath just as the Great Hall doors were closing, telling students that dinner was over. Her breath was coming in short, fast gasps as the large wooded doors slammed shut. Hazel hung her head in dismay, and let a growl escape her throat.

"Why so glum?" a familiar voice asked. She lifted her head and saw the twins striding toward her.

"I missed dinner." She explained, gesturing toward the Great Hall.

"You know where the kitchens are, correct?" Hazel nodded in a _'duh'_ sort of manner. Being friends with the twins almost guaranteed that fact.

"We were just on our way down there for a midnight snack." Fred said, stroking his taut stomach.

"It's seven-thirty. And dinner _just_ ended." Hazel pointed out. The twins' eating habits were subject of much confusion within their circle of friends.

"Okay, a pre-midnight, post-dinner snack." George said, "Whatever you want to call it, you want to come with us?"

"Well, since it's my only chance of eating before tomorrow, yes." She said, falling into step with them as they descended the stairs to the left of the Great Hall.

"So why did our young charms mistress miss dinner?" Fred queried casually, sticking his hands in his pockets.

"I was…preoccupied." She said unconvincingly, watching the floor pass under her feet rather than look at either of them.

"Well if she's not going to tell us, then we'll just have to guess, Forge."

"Fire at will, Gred." George said, a sly smile breaking on his face.

"Were you in the library?" Fred asked.

"Nope."

"Were you perchance out of bounds?" Fred guessed again.

"No."

"Were you with someone handsome and Quidditch-obsessed?" George ventured luridly.

"No!"

"Ah, methinks the lady doth protest too loudly."

"I think we've got ourselves an answer."

"You are no where even remotely close to the answer!" she practically yelped. After what had happened in the common room before break, how could they possibly think she'd get within fifty feet of Wood, much less be tooling around the corridors with him?

"Then where were you?" they asked together.

"I don't have to tell you anything."

"Why so defensive?"

"We're just curious."

"You can tell us anything."

"We are _very_ trustworthy."

"Just look at our angelic faces!" the twins volleyed. Hazel, heavily annoyed and absolutely famished, finally gave in.

"Fine! But you two have to swear not to tell anyone under pain of death!" she rounded on them as they approached the portrait of the bowl of fruit.

"We swear!" they said together as Fred tickled the pear and the knob appeared. Once the door opened they were set upon by a swarm of house-elves.

"Missers Weasley and Missy Hazel! To what does Trixy owe the pleasure?" asked a female house-elf who looked as though she was in charge.

"We are a mite peckish, and Missy Hazel here missed dinner." George said, clapping Hazel on the back. She had a sinking feeling that this wouldn't be the last she heard of that nickname.

"Go sits by the fire and Trixy will fix you something then!" she turned to her fellow elves and shooed them away to work while one of them grabbed each of the twins' hands, forcing them to bend at an awkward angle and shuffle comically after him. He led them over to the large, roaring fireplace and stuffed them into large, overstuffed chairs. Hazel followed, stifling laughs as she sat next to George.

"Oh, sod off Missy Hazel." Fred said, slumping in his chair.

"Tea? Biscuits?" a smaller elf asked, holding up a large tray that probably weighed more than he did up to them, stacked with cups, biscuits and a pot of tea. Hazel took some to be polite but held them in her lap.

"So you still haven't told us where you were." George pressed.

"Oh yeah! Spill it, Missy."

"Okay," she said, repositioning herself to face them. "I've been feeding this stray dog since October, and today I went to see where he was staying."

"A stray dog?"

"That's the best you can do?" Fred said unbelievingly.

"He's staying in the Shrieking Shack! I will take you both there now if you don't believe me!" she said, getting agitated. It had been a long day, and the lack of food in her system was only adding to her agitation.

"How did you get there? Someone would've seen you on the path to Hogsmeade." George pointed out.

"There's a tunnel underneath the Whomping Willow. Goes right into the Shack." She explained.

"No there isn't, it's caved in!"

She had already opened her mouth to respond, but stopped, "H-how would you know about that?"

"We know all the secret passageways and shortcuts round here." Fred defended as the house elf that had offered them tea and biscuits ushered them over to one of the four long tables that mirrored the ones above in the Great Hall. They had set one corner of the table that would be Gryffindor with all sorts of delicious-looking food. Pasties, pies, steaks, sausages, mashed potatoes, veggies, the whole nine yards.

"Well, I'm telling you it's clear. And there's a dog living in the Shrieking Shack." Hazel said with a sense of finality.

"Why is that _not_ the strangest thing I've heard today?" George said as they all tucked in.

"So where are you getting this food to give to this dog that lives in the Shrieking Shack?" Fred asked musically, sitting next to Hazel rather than his brother.

"I've been getting it from the house-elves." She confessed, nibbling on a green bean.

"So you've been _stealing_ from Hogwarts to feed a stray dog?" George shot a look at his brother and they came to a near-instantaneous understanding of how to corner Hazel.

"I have not! The elves are more than happy to help! And besides, you've been coming down here much longer than I have!"

"Yes, but we feed students, not strays." George rationalized, pointing at her with his fork.

"I don't think McGonagall would like that you've been feeding a rabid dog." Fred looked at her out of the corner of his eye slyly.

"Which keeps him around campus."

"Which endangers your fellow students."

"And yourself."

"And now you're telling us you snuck way _out-of-bounds_ to feed this stray dog the stolen food?"

"As if you lot never snuck out of bounds before!" she scoffed, scooping up some mashed potatoes.

"Yes, but we don't feed stray dogs."

"Okay, fine! What do you want?" she asked exasperatedly.

"We request your presence at the Ravenclaw Gryffindor game next Saturday."

"No." she said flatly.

"Wonder how late McGonagall stays up?" Gorge wondered.

"Why do you want me there? You won't even be able to see me!"

"Moral support." George offered.

"And maybe it'll help you get over this whole Wood thing." Fred said.

"I _am_ over it!" she insisted.

"Then prove it!"

"Come to the game!"

Hazel fell silent and for a few minutes the only sounds were the clinking of silverware and the chatter of the house-elves. Fred and George had one of their telepathic conversations to help drown out the silence.

 _You_ had _to bring up Wood…_

 _Well, it's the truth! Maybe then she'll get back to herself._

 _Why do you care so much, mate? You've been rescuing her since the beginning of the year._

 _She's our friend!_

 _Friend or_ friendly _friend?_ George raised an eyebrow at his brother suggestively.

 _Sod off..._

"Alright, fine. I'll go." Hazel said abruptly. "But I won't enjoy it."

"Oh, I think you will." Fred said knowingly, smiling at her in his devious way. She rolled her eyes and flung some mashed potatoes at him. They landed with a 'splat' on his cheek.

"You're dead, Missy." He said dangerously, grabbing a handful of peas. Hazel screamed and Fred advanced.

Thus began the biggest food fight Hazel had ever seen. It was a full-on war that ended with the three of them getting kicked out of the kitchens by irate house elves and Hazel having to spend an hour washing mashed potatoes out of her hair.

* * *

The Ravenclaw/Gryffindor game was, to Hazel, uneventful. Gryffindor won, of course, and Hazel had some fun chanting with her fellow students and watching Fred and George tease the Ravenclaw beaters.

After the game, Hazel used the crowd to disappear into the tunnel by the Whomping Willow and made the long walk to the Shrieking Shack. She knocked on the wooden door and entered.

"Snuffles, hello?" she said in a singsong voice, pulling herself up into the groaning house. The dog bounded down the sighing stairs and nearly tackled her to the ground, raising his paws at her in greeting. They went into the sitting room and wrestled on the sofa for a minute before Hazel noticed that the fire was out and the house was cold. Wind shook the boards on the windows and Hazel shivered.

She didn't have her wand and, since she despised camping with every fiber of her being, didn't know how to build a fire from scratch. The sun was low in the sky, so she made a snap decision.

"How'd you like to sleep with me in the castle tonight? Just to keep warm." She bent over and ruffled the dog's fur as he barked happily and licked her face.

"Okay then. We'll have to be sneaky." She said as if talking to a two-year-old. The dog bounded happily into the tunnel and Hazel followed. As they approached the castle, Hazel became anxious. What if she was caught? How would she explain having a dog with her? The Weasley twins would've come in very handy at that moment.

The entire trip up to Gryffindor tower, Hazel was wracked with nerves. She checked around every corner, every column, every suit of armor for any sign of life. They had to go the long way to avoid Filch and the Dueling club as their meeting ended. She told the annoying Sir Cadogan the password and crept ahead of the dog to make sure the common room was empty. Surprisingly, it was. She figured they had moved the party to the Astronomy tower and was grateful they had as she and Snuffles ran up the stairs to the girl's dormitory.

Heart racing, she made sure the dorm was empty and let him in. He hopped up onto her bed, wagging his tail as Leia approached him. The brown tabby cat hopped onto the bed next to the dog and, after sniffing him a bit, rubbed against his leg signaling her approval. Leia curled up next to him and started purring loudly, heartily approving of having another furry animal around.

Hazel's heart warmed at the sight of them. They were so cute together as they cuddled on her bed. Hazel had a fleeting thought that she should try and take him home for the summer. She'd always wanted a dog, but by the time her dad had become amenable to the idea, she had gotten her Hogwarts letter and he had gotten her a kitten instead.

The logistics of the idea quickly quashed her hope. Getting him into the castle had been difficult enough, getting him home would be even more so. She sat on the bed with the animals and petted each of them in turn. Snuffles lay down at the foot of her bed as she changed into pajamas and crawled beneath the covers. She cracked open _A Tale of Two Cities_ and began to read as Leia settled on her stomach.

The cat purred loudly, the dog snored, and Hazel felt completely at peace for the first time in her entire fifth year at Hogwarts.

* * *

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	11. Rude Awakenings

**Chapter eleven is in the house!**

 **Thanks to...** **InsaneLotrElf, Ravenshope, rosavampyr, dumbledoreseyebrows, DancingWithAngelsAndDemons, Chocolatluver4ever, Chaotic Koi, WantsHappyEndingsForAll, lindsayponce2001, and SophiaNevermore for the Follows/Favorites!**

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 **Now, once more unto the breach!**

* * *

"Hazel! Hazel wake up! We have to get out of here!" Veronica yelled at her sleeping friend, pulling back the curtains roughly. Hazel awoke, a wave of panic rushing over her but quickly abating when she saw that Snuffles was gone. An entirely new fear surfaced as Veronica pulled her out of bed and shoved her toward the cold stone stairs to the common room. Where had he gone? Leia was still there, so Hazel scooped her up and followed Veronica's beckoning hands.

"Fucking hell, Veronica. What's all this about?"

"McGonagall called us down here. It's an emergency! They think Sirius Black got in again!" she explained quickly as they shuffled down the stairs with the rest of the half-asleep Gryffindor girls. They filed into the common room and their head of house was standing by the fire.

"Ah, ladies, how nice of you to join us." She snipped as they all filed in and stood behind the boys, who had taken up every couch, chair, and table.

"I'll make this quick so you can all get back to sleep. Sirius Black somehow managed to get into Gryffindor tower tonight," the rest of her sentence was blocked out by gasps and shouts and one very loud scream. McGonagall held up her hands and the room quieted once more. Hazel couldn't believe it; how had he actually gotten in this time?

"As I was saying, Ronald Weasley awoke to find the criminal standing over him with a knife. He is unharmed and will resume classes tomorrow with all of you. I will now ask the prefects to step forward and assist the professors in a search of the dorms. Until the search is complete, we ask that you remain in the common room. If anyone should have information about how Black could've possibly gotten in, please alert either a prefect or myself."

The prefects shuffled forward, unhappy as the rest of them to be pulled out of bed in the middle of the night, and left with McGonagall. The room started to buzz with gossip immediately, and Hazel could tell that after the search there would be little sleep to be had in Gryffindor Tower that night. Hazel stroked Leia's soft fur to calm herself, and the cat purred quietly.

Veronica was beside herself, trembling and sweating slightly. She had been a wreck ever since she and Cedric had broken up on the train, very quick to tears and overly sensitive to perceived slights. She started blubbering about how Black was going to sneak in again and come after her.

"It was in my dreams! In Divination! I can show you the journal entry!" she said hysterically. Hazel had wrapped an arm around her friend and was letting her cry into her oversized Chudley Cannons t-shirt while Angelina tried to soothe her.

"That doesn't mean anything. You and I both know that divination is a load of bollocks." She presented, as the three girls often joked about the class and made up their predictions.

"And wasn't that one of the dreams you made up?" Hazel said gently, trying to help.

"Oh, so my neuroses are just a load of bollocks to you?" Veronica jerked her head up and stared at Hazel through her glasses, eyes red from crying and burning with anger.

"No! That's not what I said at all!"

"Then what did you say?"

"All I meant was that our dream journals were largely made up, right?" Hazel reasoned, trying to bring Veronica back from the edge.

Veronica sniffed, "Right."

"And that the Sirius Black dream was one of the ones you made up, right?"

"Right."

"Okay, so a made up prophetic dream isn't going to actually happen now, is it?"

Veronica calmed, looking down at her hands, "I guess not."

"And besides, why would Black come after you? He's obviously trying to get Harry Potter." Angelina said loudly, despite the fact that Harry was in the room with them.

"Angie! Shh, he's standing right there!" Veronica chastised, pointing not-so discreetly at the Boy Who Lived.

"Yeah, Potter's got rotten luck." Fred said, joining the girls in their corner of the common room. George knew to stay away from Veronica after what had happened. He didn't want to make her feel any worse, so he remained in the far corner with Lee.

"Lucky he got that Firebolt back though, or we'd have lost the game!" Angelina said, and the two dissolved into a discussion of Quidditch tactics. Hazel tuned them out and rubbed Veronica's back, letting her mind wander to Snuffles and whether or not Sirius Black would harm an innocent animal that happened to get in his way.

This thought occupied her thoughts until McGonagall came to release them back to their dorms. Angie and Alicia and Veronica would not stop whispering to each other, so Hazel shut her curtains and grabbed her mother's diary.

 _'25 March, 1975_

 _Sirius visited me in my room last night. When I asked how, since the stairs are magically enchanted to prevent such visits, he explained something to me that explains the last few months with Remy; why he has been so hot and cold, also why Sirius and James and Peter have been so evasive. I don't dare write it here yet because I just know that Eloise Connor reads my diary. I need to come up with a jinx to stop that from happening before I do tell. Their secret is huge and rather impressive, except for poor Remy. Perhaps I will write to Daniel about it…_

 _Oh damn that Lily Evans going home for Easter! I need to tell someone, damn it!'_

Hazel turned the page eagerly, desperate to find out what the secret was. Instead, she found;

 _'4 April 1975_

 _Well. I finally did it. Remy and I had sex. Made the beast with two backs (funnily enough). It was different than I imagined, and it did hurt but Remy was tender, loving – '_

"Oh god!" Disgusted, Hazel slammed the diary shut and threw it away from her as if it had burnt her hands. Now she absolutely knew that she would not sleep at all that night. Or perhaps ever again.

* * *

Life returned to relatively normal after the latest Black incident, but the Dementors were floating closer and closer to school grounds. March came in like a lion, the first week was nothing but thunderstorm after thunderstorm and Hazel was absolutely delighted to see more and more of her classmates using the Umbrella Charm. Flitwick mentioned he might teach it to the younger classes.

Hazel and Veronica now spent every night in the library, Alicia and Angelina joining them whenever they didn't have Quidditch. The Gryffindor team was practicing four days a week, rain or shine, in preparation for the cup game in May. Alicia had had to visit Madame Pomfrey for pepperup potion twice in the last three weeks.

Even Fred and George joined in the revision party occasionally, but served to be nothing more than distractions. This was one of those nights.

"I'm bored." George whined, his chin in his hand and dangerously close to his book.

"Then switch subjects." Hazel suggested through gritted teeth. This was the fourth time she had suggested this to one of the twins in the last half hour.

"I've officially read the same sentence six times and still have no idea what it means." Fred complained.

"Then quiz me." Hazel said, handing him the potions flash cards she was working through. Fred sighed and read the back of the flash card aloud in a rather striking impression of Professor Snape's dulcet tones.

"This potion contains bezoar, mistletoe berries, and powdered unicorn horn."

"Antidote for common poisons." Hazel answered.

"This potion forces the taker to tell the truth."

"Veritaserum."

"Nope."

"Truth-telling serum? What are the ingredients?"

"I'm bored again!" George whined again, interrupting Hazel.

"George, quiz me on Herbology." Veronica pushed her book across the table at him. The unlikely pair had settled things weeks ago, but it was still strange for Hazel to see them together. As far as Hazel knew, they were friends.

"Mmm, I'm no good at Herbology. How about…slacking? I'm excellent at slacking."

"Ugh, keep going Fred."

He quizzed her for a while longer and she only missed a few ingredients of Polyjuice Potion before calling it quits for the night. At around half nine Fred and George made their exit to go do something horrible to some innocent second-year Slytherins, which left Veronica and Hazel alone.

"Have you finished that DADA assignment yet?" Veronica asked, her eyes scouring the textbook in front of her.

"Here you go." Hazel said, handing over the assignment and also not looking up from her book.

"Hazel?"

"Yes, Veronica?"

"I think I fancy George."

Hazel's eyes shot up from her book and landed on Veronica's face. Her jaw fell and she tried to form an answer, but had no words.

"Y-you think?" she finally said.

"Yes. I _think_. As in, I don't know yet."

"Is this because of what happened over New Years'?" Hazel asked quietly, as they were attracting the attention of Madame Pince, which was never good.

"Only a little. He left me this yesterday morning." She said, pulling a small vial on a chain out of her cleavage, uncorking it and handing it over to Hazel so she could smell it.

Hazel took a whiff. It smelled like maple syrup, and looked like molten gold. Hazel knew what it was immediately and looked at her friend, blue eyes wide as saucers.

"Veronica do you know what this is?" she asked incredulously.

"Felix Felicis." Veronica confirmed.

"How did he get it?! They can't have made it themselves! It's beyond N.E.W.T. level advanced!" Hazel said, gingerly giving it back to her.

"Although, when you think about it…it does explain a lot."

Veronica and Hazel shared a dangerous look. If the boys were cooking up Felix Felicis on their own, they would be expelled without a second thought. Hazel hadn't noticed signs of overuse, but she didn't think it was out of the question that they boys used this for some of their larger heists.

"They couldn't…"

"They wouldn't…"

"Except that they totally would…We should go." Hazel said after a moment. Veronica nodded and they gathered their things, leaving under the watchful eye of Madame Pince.

* * *

While Hazel covered by distracting Percy, Veronica stole up the stairs to confront the boys about the Felix Felicis. Once Veronica was safely up the stairs Hazel retired to the sofa in front of the fire and pulled her mother's journal out of her bag. She had forgotten it was in there, as she hadn't even opened it since she found the rather disturbing entry.

Carefully bypassing that particular page, Hazel picked up with her mother in May 1975.

 _'19 May 1975_

 _I finally figured out a charm to keep nosy Eloise out of my diary, so I finally feel able to write this._

 _Remy is a werewolf._

 _Sirius, James, and Peter are animagi. Sirius takes the form of a shaggy black dog, James is a handsome stag, and Peter is a rat (go figure). They accompany Remy once a month when he changes and romp around the forest with him. This helps prevent Remy from harming anyone._

 _Well, mostly everyone. He broke up with me last night after I told him I knew about him. It didn't matter that I told him I still loved him just the same. He was too afraid that he would physically hurt me and told me we had no future together, so he broke it off. What he didn't count on was hurting me emotionally. I feel as if there's a hole in my chest and Lily has to practically drag me to classes and meals. I dread every second because he's there, looking at me in his sad sad way that makes me want to reach out and comfort him, but I have to respect that he was afraid to hurt me._

 _Daniel tried to cheer me up in his last letter (which was actually rather sweet, he called Remus a "sanctimonious pirate with no more brains than a football" and how he made a very egregious error by cutting me loose), but it's like my mother told me. Only time can heal a broken heart.'_

Her mother's first heartbreak, there on paper. However, Hazel's eyes were drawn back to the words, "Sirius" and "dog."

Sirius Black was an Animagus. He took the form of a dog.

Hazel's stomach plummeted to her feet as she lined up the events of the last six months. She met Snuffles days before Halloween, when Sirius Black attacked the Fat Lady. She brought him into the castle, then that night Ron Weasley was attacked by Sirius Black. The events clicked together seamlessly, like two Lego bricks she'd played with as a kid.

The walls started closing in on her and the heat from the fireplace was suddenly unbearably hot. She threw her mother's journal onto the table and dashed over to the nearest window, opening it and gasping in the cool night air.

Luckily, she'd taken a calming draught to help with exam stress earlier that day, otherwise she'd be in the midst of another panic attack. What had she done? How should she proceed from this revelation? The night air washed over her face and invaded every orifice, helping to clear her head.

"Are you alright, Hazel?" asked a bushy-haired Hermione Granger, looking up at Hazel curiously. Hazel ran a hand through her hair and took one last deep breath, feeling the calming draught working its way through her veins like firewhiskey.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks Hermione." She said dismissively, closing the window and going back to the couch, reading through the passage again and again until Veronica returned and plopped down next to her.

"They didn't brew it themselves. They nicked it."

"How is that any better? Who did they nick it from?" Hazel was already drained from her realization, so the sooner this case was closed the better.

"They nicked it from Filch's office last year. George told me that it's not good after six months or so. He just thought it looked pretty as a necklace." She relayed what George had bashfully told her, leaving out the note that came with it that read, 'Thanks for letting me get lucky! Have some luck of your own!' He'd been proud of that, she could tell.

"Oh. Well then, that's resolved. I'm going to bed." Hazel muttered before quickly grabbing her things and heading up the stairs to bed.

* * *

The next day she claimed to have a headache and skived off Herbology and Divination, instead heading down to the Whomping Willow, into the tunnel that would lead her to the Shrieking Shack and, if her suspicions were right, Sirius Black. She gripped her wand tightly and practiced a non-verbal stunning spell, just in case.

Her heart rate increased with every step so it was humming in her chest as she reached the rickety wooden door. She knocked politely and opened the door, remembering how Snuffles had bounced around the dusty floor of the foyer. She now realized he was probably covering up his own footprints.

"Snuffles?" she said loudly, having the courtesy to give him time to change back into animal form. Hearing a loud creak from the upstairs floor she mounted the stairs and carefully climbed.

"Snuffles?" she called again as she reached the first landing. She heard a bark from the upper floor and continued her ascent, pretty sure her heart ceased to exist and in its place was a hummingbird, flapping its wings against her ribcage. Her stomach twisted into unwelcome knots and she gripped her wand so tightly she thought it might snap.

She reached the top of the stairs and the dog emerged from the room at the end of the hall. Instead of letting him run and greet her, she held up her hand.

"Stop. Stay there." The dog sat and wagged his tail behind him, looking up at her questioningly. She took a deep breath, relieved to see that he was still alive. She couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth, but quickly banished it.

"Hello Snuffles. Or should I say, Sirius?" The dog tilted his head adorably, but otherwise didn't react to the accusation.

"I know that you're Sirius Black. You knew my mum, Laurel Nithercott. She was your cousin. I've got her journal right here," she said, digging in her bag and pulling out the worn leather journal, "And in it she says that Sirius Black was an animagus who took the form of a shaggy black dog. I did a little thinking, and the night Ron Weasley was attacked was the night I smuggled you, _shaggy black dog,_ into the castle. I met you and a few days later Sirius Black attacked the Fat Lady. These are _not_ just coincidences."

She took a step toward the dog, who had something akin to fear shining in his eyes. Hazel took a breath and calmed herself, realizing how she must have looked. She could feel the tension in her forehead as she held her eyes wide and blinked to relieve it.

She could tell she wouldn't be getting any response from him and understood why; if he revealed himself to her, she could turn him in to the dementors. The Daily Prophet had reported that upon his capture Black would be subject to the Dementor's Kiss, which was one of the worst punishments Hazel could ever imagine.

She decided to throw up a Hail Mary. She had to know.

"I won't turn you in because…in all honesty I can't imagine my mother associating with someone who would do what you have done. It is because of her that you will remain free. For now."

Hazel turned on her heel and started descending the stairs. Before she hit the first landing, however, she heard a raspy, desperate voice behind her that made her blood freeze in her veins.

"Hazel."

* * *

 **Cliffhanger, AAAHHHHH! Reviews will help resolve this tension!**


	12. As You Wish

Hazel finally knew what it felt like to be petrified. She was frozen to the spot by the voice she had just heard rasp out her name, despite never having told him.

"You've grown up so much." The voice scratched again, sending an icy chill up her spine.

"How would you know?" Hazel asked weakly, still frozen to her spot on the stairs. The air in the house seemed to still, and his words swam through it.

"As you said, I knew your mother. She had a picture of you that she would stare at every night and ask me if she was doing the right thing. She regretted leaving you, you know." The voice revealed. Hazel could feel tears prickle at her eyes and the back of her throat. She pushed them away as the voice continued.

"She and I were good friends, and I thank you for not turning me in on her behalf. But would you like to know the real reason you won't be turning me in?" She heard the floor creak as he took a step closer and she whipped around, wand raised protectively.

"Not another step." She warned, as she took in the former resident of Azkaban. His hair was wild and matted, but the insane blaze in his stormy grey eyes that appeared in the wanted posters was replaced by a calm glow that Hazel almost instinctively trusted. He raised his dirty hands innocently and halted his movement toward her. On his skeletal frame he wore the striped uniform of a prisoner, but had found (most likely stolen) a long brown overcoat to cover it.

"I am innocent, Hazel, and I can prove it to you."

"How?" she said, lowering her wand slightly.

"I will tell you a story."

"Stories can be biased. You're a murderer escaped from Azkaban, you'll say anything to stay free." She reasoned, fear creeping back into her voice.

"All I want you to do is listen. When I'm finished you can decide on whether you believe me or not. Sound fair?" He asked.

"Fair enough." Hazel said as Sirius walked to the edge of the stairs and sat at the top. He patted the empty space next to him and she snorted.

"Yeah, right." She said. Despite her best attempts, an uneasy trust had settled over her and this man in front of her. He trusted her not to turn him in, and she trusted him to not attack her before she heard his side of things. Plus, there was something in the way he smiled at her, as if they were old friends, that made her want to trust him.

"I don't bite. And I promise I won't try anything. You will return to the castle unharmed. I swear on Laurel's grave." The sincerity of his gaze reassured Hazel, who slowly walked up the stairs and sat next to him, pulling a roast beef sandwich out of her bag. He wolfed it down, watching her the whole time. She could feel his eyes on her face as she looked at him out of the corner of her eye. With one shaking hand, he reached out and stroked her hair, his eyes taking on the same nostalgic, faraway look that Lupin's did whenever she caught his eyes lingering on her.

"You look so much like her." He said, almost awestruck as his eyes became misty, as if he were about to cry. Hazel looked away from him and cleared her throat.

"You were saying?" He pulled his hand away and she stared at her lap, waiting for him to begin.

He sighed a raspy sigh, "Where to start, where to start…I guess you already know I was friends with James and Lily Potter so I will start when Dumbledore told them to go into hiding. They wanted me as their secret-keeper, but I thought that would be too obvious so our friend Peter Pettigrew took on the responsibility. He was the one who turned them in to Voldemort – " Hazel flinched, not used to hearing that name in polite conversation, "He was the reason they were killed. I went to confront him and we had a bit of a duel, him shouting that it was me who betrayed them the entire time. Then, he cut off his finger and blew up the street, killing those Muggles. I protected myself from the blast but had…thoroughly lost my mind. I was arrested on the spot."

"No trial?"

"No, straight to Azkaban where I merely existed for twelve years. This summer though, I found this." He reached into his dirty coat and pulled out a newspaper clipping. Hazel's heart dropped when she saw the familiar visages of the Weasley twins, along with the rest of the Weasley clan.

"I know these two, what've they got to do with this?" she asked, pointing out the twins.

"Absolutely nothing. Look here," he said, pointing to Ron's shoulder. His grubby rat whose name always escaped Hazel was perched on his shoulder wearing a tiny fez.

"That's his pet rat, what of it?"

"Did your mother's journal happen to mention what form Peter's animagus was?" Sirius led gently. Hazel's eyes widened when the answer clicked in her head.

"A rat! Peter Pettigrew is Ron's rat! That's why you attacked him! You're coming for the rat not for Harry!"

"Exactly. And you can help me clear my name and get my life back, Hazel, all you have to do is bring me that rat!" Desperation clung to every word and he started getting agitated.

"I…I don't think I can do that, Sirius." She said quietly, pressing herself against the railing posts in an effort to distance herself from him.

"Why not?" he growled. She could hear the urgency in his voice and subtly adjusted the grip on her wand and stood up, walking down a few stairs before turning to look at him.

"I've got a lot going on, O.W.L.s coming up and everything…if I get caught I'm an accomplice to an escaped murderer…"

"You've been feeding me for months, that's conspiracy!"

"No, I was feeding a stray dog. I had no idea it was you until yesterday night!" she argued as he rose to his feet.

"Please, Hazel, I _need_ this! I _need_ you!"

"You've waited for what, twelve and a half years? You can wait a few more months until my O.W.L.s are over." She dismissed with a wave of her hand.

He lunged down the stairs after her and grabbed her upper arms, the insanity returning to his eyes, "You don't understand! I need to clear my name - !"

She wrenched out of his grasp and dashed down the rest of the stairs, wand at the ready once again.

"I don't want to hear it! I believe you, Sirius, but you've used me one too many times! You need me more than I need you, so you will wait until my exams are over!" Hazel yelled up at him.

"I can't promise that, love." He said, advancing down the stairs toward her.

"Then I'll make you a deal. My exams are over on June fifteenth. If you stay away from the school until then, I will hand-deliver Pettigrew, to hell with the consequences. Think you can wait that long?" Hazel offered as she backed up against the boarded up front door.

Sirius stopped and considered before backing up the stairs carelessly, the ghost of a smile appearing on his face. In that moment, Hazel caught a glimpse of the young man he once was. The young man her mother must've known.

"Alright, Hazel. June fifteenth. It's a deal."

"Shake on it." She demanded, approaching the bottom of the stairs. He reached out and shook her hand. Not wanting to linger any longer, Hazel opened the tunnel door and bent down to jump down into it.

"Oh Hazel?" Sirius said.

"Yes?" she stopped, turning back to watch the escaped criminal.

"The next time you visit, I'll tell you about her." He said with a smile that nearly cracked his face in half. On her way back to the castle, Hazel figured out that it was probably his first smile in a very, very long time.

* * *

Hazel was distant again and continually distracted in classes for the next few weeks. In Divination one sunny April afternoon she was working with Fred on reading tea leaves (as a refresher for the O.W.L.s, Trelawney insisted) when he decided to ask her about it.

"Alright, what's wrong now?" Fred asked quietly, making sure Trelawney was busy harassing other students.

"Nothing. Just have things on my mind is all." She said, pulling out of her reverie. In truth, she had been trying to come up with a plan to get Scabbers (she had offhandedly asked George the rat's name one day) out of Ron's dormitory and down to Sirius.

"You've been moping about again. Don't tell me this is still about Wood?" Fred asked exasperatedly.

"No, 'course not. That's over and done with. It's just…O.W.L. stress and schoolwork and stuff."

"Does this thing happen to be an escaped murderer?" Hazel tried to remain breezy and laugh it off, but ended up knocking Fred's teacup off of the table, smashing it on the floor.

"I'll take that as a yes." Fred joked as he bent over to clean it up.

"Oh no! My dear, don't you realize what you've done!?" Trelawney asked, floating over to Fred and Hazel in a cloud of silk scarves. She never could tell when Trelawney was asking a rhetorical or serious question, but the extra-buggy look she was giving Hazel gave her a clue.

"N-no, I don't." Hazel answered.

"You have condemned your partner to," she gasped dramatically, "an untimely death! An untimely death most foul!"

"That's alright, professor, I think I was heading towards that anyway. I've a bad track record with explosives." Fred joked as he pulled out his wand and magically repaired the glass, picking it up and holding it out to her all in one smooth motion, "More tea please."

Trelawney snorted contemptuously and swiped the cup from Fred, going to refill it with tea.

"Sorry about that. Untimely deaths are the worst." Hazel said, giving a poor attempt to appear lighthearted.

"That's alright, according to your cup you've got a major illness headed your way. Also, if I'm not mistaken, seven swans a-swimming, six geese a-laying, five golden rings – "

"Fred, stop it!" Hazel said, laughing quietly as Trelawney had just finished refilling his cup and was headed back over.

"I'm not finished yet. Four calling birds…"

"Fred, really!" Hazel said, putting a hand on his wrist and pushing her cup down. She was unaware of the large smile forming on her lips.

"There it is." He said, pointing to the smile. "Haven't seen that in a while."

Hazel tried to stifle the smile but failed miserably as Fred bugged out his eyes at her just as Trelawney reached the table with the new cup. She handed it to Hazel, who took it.

"What do you see, child?" she asked excitedly. Hazel looked into the cup and tried to recognize shapes in the lumps of tealeaves.

"It looks like Fred here will have a very pleasant holiday involving lots of birds, professor." She lied, for all she saw was lumps of tealeaves.

"Birds, my dear?"

"Oh yes, no less than six of them. And one of them appears to be in a…pear tree?" Hazel said, inspecting the cup intensely with a magnifying glass. Fred let out a loud laugh that he poorly tried to cover up as a cough.

"How…unusual. Keep at it then." The scrawny professor said, flipping the end of one of her many scarves around her neck as she walked away.

"So what's this about Black, then?" Fred said once the professor was out of earshot.

"It's nothing. Just…I've been reading my mother's journal recently. She mentions that she and Black were friends." Hazel muttered, putting the cup back on the table. It was a half-truth, which was the best she could do at the moment.

Fred extended his arm across the small table and grabbed her hand in his, "That doesn't mean anything. Yeah, he might've been a nice bloke, but he went bad in a very big way. Your mum had nothing to do with it, I'm sure."

"I guess. Do you have Quidditch practice tonight?" she asked offhandedly.

"Oh yeah. Wood's gone mad about the final. Practice six days a week until it's over."

"Does he not realize you've all got lives outside of Quidditch? Four of you are preparing for O.W.L.s and the rest of you surely have exams."

"He figures we've got about a month between the final and exams. Plenty o'time to study oop, eh, chaps?" He mimicked in a terrible Scottish accent. Hazel giggled and tried to take the lesson seriously, which was very difficult in Trelawney's class.

Soon enough, though, class ended and she gathered up her things and met up with Veronica, who had been working with George. Her friend looked absolutely giddy as they climbed down the tower toward their next class, Herbology.

"What's going on with you?" Hazel asked warily, then she lowered her voice, "Did you take that Felix Felicis?"

Ignoring the accusation, Veronica answered, "George asked me to Hogsmeade next weekend!"

"Like, on a date?"

"No, on a gondola ride," she jested dryly, "Of course on a date!"

"And you said yes, I take it?"

"Well yeah! You've heard the latest about Cedric, haven't you?" Veronica justified. Being acquainted with Veronica meant that of course Hazel had heard that Cedric was now pursuing Cho Chang, the shiny-haired Ravenclaw seeker with an utter lack of personality.

"Of course I have, but…" Hazel trailed off.

"But what?"

"I just don't think George should be a rebound guy. He's much too sweet for that."

"He's totally not my rebound. Reece was my rebound, remember?" Veronica had had a few make out sessions with Reece Holstein, a sixth-year Ravenclaw who was one of the captains of the dueling club, which Veronica had joined to take her mind off of studying and Cedric.

"Oh right. Anyway, you two have fun. Guess I'll be going alone."

"Well actually," Veronica said as they passed out of the castle toward the greenhouses. "George feels badly about leaving Fred on his own so he was hoping that you would go with Fred."

"What about Lee?"

"You know he and Alicia are connected at the mouth these days. He's going with her."

Hazel groaned, "But I told you…"

"No boys until after O.W.L.s, I know, but one little date won't completely derail you, will it?" Hazel raised an eyebrow at her friend before she continued her plea; "Think of it as a favor to a friend, please? Pretty please?"

She groaned again, but consented as Professor Sprout called the class to attention and explained the lesson.

* * *

"Are you sure I look alright?" Veronica asked for the thousandth time. She wore an adorable yellow sundress with a grey cardigan and a pair of impeccably white Converse. Her make up was subtle yet managed to make her eyes pop out from behind her glasses, and her hair was up in a casually messy ponytail. Hazel thought she looked great, and told her so as she continued to get ready.

Hazel couldn't decide what to do with her hair, she was still in her pajamas, and it didn't help that a swarm of butterflies had taken up residence in her stomach. Why was she so nervous? It's not like this was even a real date. She was just doing it to entertain Fred while George and Lee were off with their respective dates. He hadn't even asked her himself!

She threw down the lip gloss she'd been applying and sighed, wiping it off.

"Are you nervous?" Veronica asked.

"No, why should I be? It's not like it's a real date anyway." Hazel said in a clipped tone of voice that told Veronica that the exact opposite was true. She crossed over to her friend's wardrobe and opened it, pulling out a dark blue pair of jeans, Hazel's favorite Keith Haring t-shirt, and a red flannel shirt.

"Here, put this on while I sort out what to do with your hair." Veronica said, holding out the clothes. Hazel took them and started changing while Veronica flipped though the latest _Witch Weekly_ , looking for ideas. In the end, she put a little Sleakeasy's Hair Potion into it and stuck a slouchy beanie on Hazel's head, adding just a bit of mascara to bring out her big blue eyes and some blush on her cheeks.

Hazel's nerves abated as they went down the stairs and ventured toward the Entrance Hall. They boys had had an early morning Quidditch practice, so they were meeting the girls there. As they rounded the corner and started to descend the stairs Hazel caught sight of the boys standing over by the large doors of the Great Hall and groaned loudly.

"Oh no, no no no." She said, grabbing Veronica's elbow and stopping her descent. She rounded on her friend, turning her back toward the boys.

"What?"

"Look at what Fred is wearing!" Hazel said urgently and Veronica looked over before breaking out in fit of laughter.

Fred was wearing dark jeans, a t-shirt, and a red flannel shirt. He must've put an effort into looking nice because none of his clothing looked as if he's just picked it up off the floor and thrown it on. He had also combed his hair and dashed on some cologne Bill had sent him from Egypt for Christmas. Frankincense and citrus, which brought Fred's mind back to the sandy plains they had explored the previous summer.

"I cannot go down there!" Hazel whispered loudly, trying to not attract attention to herself but failing miserably.

"We're already late! And look, they've spotted us!" Veronica said, pointing over Hazel's shoulder. True enough, the twins were ambling over, large smirks on their faces.

"Well, you know what they say, Georgie, great minds think alike." Fred said as he looked Hazel's outfit up and down.

"You're just missing the hat and it'd be perfect." George said.

"Well, we'll have to stop at Gladrags and get you one." Hazel said, a surly tone in her voice. Fred stepped closer and wrapped his arm around her.

"C'mon, Haze, it's not that big a deal. Not like this is a real date anyway. Just two mates entertaining each other while the other two mates are off mating." She smiled at his pun.

"Oi! Watch the cheek!" George said as Fred and Hazel walked away to give the burgeoning couple some privacy. They got in line to be signed out by Filch, who looked extra crotchety today. He gave Fred a dirty look as he signed them out and Fred didn't say a word until they were out of earshot.

"So did you plan this? Sneak into my Quidditch bag this morning?" he joked, gesturing to her outfit.

"There is not enough money in the world to convince me to go in your Quidditch bag. And, imitation is the highest form of flattery." She explained, shrugging her shoulders.

"And flattery will get you everywhere." He winked.

"Will it get me a ride to Hogsmeade?" she said only half-jokingly.

"If a valiant steed the lady need, a valiant steed shall I be!" he declared, crouching down and holding out his arms, indicating she climb on his back. Hazel giggled and clambered on, yelping a bit when he rose to his full height.

"Wow, the view is so much better from up here." She commented, resting her chin on his shoulder. She was riding piggyback and trying to hold onto his neck without choking him, but also without slipping off.

"Yeah, it's even nicer when there are low-cut blouses about. Get a nice aerial shot." Fred said lasciviously, for which Hazel attempted to kick him.

"You pervert. Now onward, valiant steed!" she pointed up the path dramatically.

"Harsh words from the lady. Perhaps I should toss her in the lake?" he wondered aloud, walking toward the edge of the path, which was perhaps ten yards away from the lakeshore.

"No, please no!" Hazel shrieked, her grip tightening as she buried her head into the crook where his neck met his shoulders. He smelled like an Egyptian bazaar.

Fred made obnoxious choking noises as he said, "Okay! Okay! Uncle, I surrender!" Hazel loosened her grip. Fred walked on in silence for a bit, Hazel's face still buried in his neck as the wind off the lake had picked up rather dramatically.

"So…what do you want to do today?" she asked as they approached the fork in the road. One led to Hogsmeade, the other to the Shrieking Shack. She very subtly angled her body toward the village to steer Fred in that direction.

"I was hoping to try and ruin George and Veronica's day but then I found myself on a date. Want to hop off now, love? Me back's going to be in shambles if I've got to carry you all day." He bent over and she got down, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the town.

"We could do a bit of shopping. I've got to get more parchment and something for my dad's birthday."

"I can help with that. I'm an ace at giving gifts." He boasted as they passed under the archway into the small wizarding village.

"I know that. Yours was my favorite gift last Christmas." She admitted, feeling a blush form on her cheeks. He squeezed her hand.

"Oh really?" he asked, looking at her like he had while they were dancing in his bedroom on New Years' Eve. That look made her uncomfortable yet set her insides on fire all at once.

"C'mon, I've got to get some sugar for my valiant steed!" she exclaimed, leading him toward Honeydukes. Rooting himself to the spot, Fred pulled her back and held her close to his chest with one arm, tapping his cheek with the long index finger expectantly.

Hazel smirked and pecked his warm, clean-shaven cheek before tapping it with her open hand.

"Let's get going. If we're lucky we can get all our shopping done and still have time to harass George and Veronica."

"As you wish." He said quietly. Hazel spun quickly, her hair almost whipping her in the face.

"What did you say?" Her copy of _The Princess Bride_ was still missing and hearing the familiar declaration of Westley's love from Fred raised suspicion as to where it had gone.

"I said I wish. As in, I wish we could be that lucky." He covered quickly, as he did not want to fight with her about stealing her book. In truth, he had only borrowed it. He wanted to see what all the fuss was about.

"Right." She said, eyeing him disbelievingly as they walked down the high street toward Zonko's. She resolved to ask him for the truth later.

* * *

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	13. Turning Saints Into the Sea

**Chapter 13, what is up?!**

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 **Anyway, enjoy!**

* * *

It all started about a month after she promised to bring him Pettigrew. It started with the occasional snide remark, and then rapidly progressed into long screaming matches that Hazel worried some passerby might hear.

"I HAVE WAITED LONG ENOUGH!" Sirius roared, pitching the last intact plate against the wall. Hazel didn't even flinch, instead she repaired it non-verbally.

"FINE, IF YOU WANT HIM, GO GET HIM. I'M SURE THE DEMENTORS WILL APPRECIATE IT!" She spat back at him. How could he not understand what she was giving up for him? It took the better part of an hour to get to the Shrieking Shack one way, not to mention forty-five minutes for their screaming match. Basically, thrice per week she gave up an evening of studying to bring him food.

"JUST BRING HIM TO ME!" Sirius advanced on her, his arms tense as he reached for her throat.

"No! Flipendo!" she shouted and Sirius fell backwards, crashing into the doorframe that led to the kitchen. Without another word, Hazel left. Tears streamed down her face as she ran through the dirt-walled passage back toward the school. She hoped he wasn't hurt, but couldn't dream of going back.

In order to avoid confronting Sirius again Hazel took to leaving the food just inside the door of the Shrieking Shack and hoping for the best. Her heart lurched every time she turned away from the door without going in, feeling badly for Sirius. He was alone in the world and had no one else to talk to, and Hazel had taken the privilege of her visits away from him.

At the same time, however, Sirius knew he had pushed her away. He was desperate for his vengeance and so close that he could taste it. He had picked the fights to drive her away, afraid of what he might do to her if he really lost control as he had on that night with Peter so many years ago. The thought of potentially hurting Laurel's daughter made him almost physically ill, it was better to live in solitude for the next three weeks than to risk hurting her. He still had Crookshanks, but the cat was now under the watchful eye of that Weasley kid.

He would just have to keep waiting.

* * *

The Quidditch final between Slytherin and Gryffindor arrived sooner than expected for Hazel, who joined her classmates on a bright, cloudless day to watch the yearly competition.

She watched as Gryffindor got an early lead, earned some penalty shots, and eventually won. She joined in the cheers as Wood hoisted the cup over his head, pride and relief washing over his face. She then filed out of the stadium and headed straight to the common room, where a party had already started courtesy of Fred, George, and Lee and their never-failing optimism.

There was a massive amount of food, and more libations than anyone could possibly choose from. Hazel had graciously donated her last two bottles of Nithercott's to the cause, and she now saw one in Fred's hand which was connected to the arm that was draped around Loretta Sharpe's shoulders. Hazel glared over at them as they leaned casually against the wall next to the entrance to the boy's dorm and chatted with Lee and Michael Crawford.

Things had returned to normal after their Hogsmeade date. In fact it was as if it hadn't happened at all. When Hazel tried to bring up an inside joke about the rather genius prank they'd played on George and Veronica (they had bewitched their teacups at Madame Puddifoot's to loudly belt out, "You Charmed the Heart Right Out of Me" whenever they took a sip, but only for the duration of the sip which lead to a choppy version of the song) Fred had just smiled and nodded evasively. He had also gone back to working with George in classes and leaving Hazel to work with Veronica or Angelina.

They were friends, so what was this acidic flame flickering in her stomach? It may have been the three firewhiskeys and piles of chocolate, but it felt like…jealousy? She stood across the room by the fireplace and kept flicking her eyes over to them every few seconds. Loretta kept flicking her red-brown hair over her shoulders and fluttering her eyelashes at Fred, which made Hazel's stomach churn further. Veronica was off with George doing Merlin-Knows-What, so she wasn't around to distract Hazel.

"Hullo Hazel." A familiar Scottish brogue slurred from her left.

"Hello Oliver." She sighed, looking back at him. He wore a goofy smile and his cheeks were a bit flushed, but given the temperature of the room Hazel wasn't surprised. Out of the corner of her eye she watched Fred and Loretta sneak up the stairs to the boy's dormitory together, Loretta giggling the whole way.

"How've you been?"

"I'm well. I assume you are over the moon?" The acidic feeling in her stomach did not subside as she thought of what they were doing up there, so she tried her hardest to focus on Oliver.

"Yeah. There were some recruiters in the stands today. I've been invited to try out for four league teams this summer!" he bragged, holding up three fingers. He was obviously blitzed. Hazel was none too sober either.

"Congratulations, Oliver, you really deserve -!" she was interrupted by his lips on hers. Instead of fighting it, Hazel gave in almost immediately. The firewhiskey had always increased her desire to be touched, brushed, kissed, held, so she wrapped her arms around Oliver's neck and pulled him closer, thoroughly enjoying the closeness of him.

Cheers and whoops sounded through the common room once a few third years with their faces painted half gold and half red had caught sight of them. Hazel pulled away embarrassedly. Oliver's hand lingered on her waist as he waved away the ovations.

"Oh mind yer own goddamn business!" he yelled good-naturedly before turning back to Hazel. Their noses almost touched and she could smell the alcohol on his breath as he said, "Wanna go somewhere a little more private?"

With the jealousy still gnawing at her insides and without thinking, Hazel agreed. She felt a familiar stirring inside her as he led her upstairs with her fingertips, which was only amplified by the firewhiskey. She craved that particular closeness with someone, and since Oliver was there and willing…

Halfway up the stairs he pushed her against the wall, kissing her slowly with her face cupped in his hands. She wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling his lower half closer to hers.

"Eager, are we?" He asked. His voice was deep and erotic.

"You have no idea." She said, pulling him back into the kiss. They made their way up to his dorm and she locked the door.

This time with Oliver was different. It was slow and sensual, as if he were savoring every inch of her. They traced each other with their fingertips, as if to sketch this moment onto their memories forever.

Hazel awoke with her throbbing head on Wood's warm chest. His arms were around her and he was breathing evenly. Not wanting to wake him, she rose gently and quietly dressed. The sun was already streaming in through the windows as Hazel rushed down the stairs, praying to not run into anyone.

However, she literally ran into the last person on earth she wanted to see. Fred was coming out of his dorm and heading to the loo when Hazel crashed into him.

"Oi, Hazel, where are you coming from?" he asked, holding her shoulders at arms' length. Hazel heard a door open and close and footsteps getting closer and she started to panic.

"Oh, uh, well…nowhere. I've got to – "

"Hazel, you forgot your…" Oliver said, holding out the shirt she'd been wearing the night before. She was currently wearing Wood's Puddlemere United tee.

"Wood." Fred greeted stiffly.

"Weasley. Great job yesterday." Oliver acknowledged. The three stood in a horrifically awkward silence before Hazel swiped her shirt from Wood's hand and dashed down the rest of the stairs. This time, she didn't run into anyone and fell onto her bed, cursing loudly into her pillows.

"Hazel, izzat you?" Veronica's tired voice called from her bed.

"Yes, unfortunately." She said into her pillow. Veronica crawled into the bed next to her and grabbed her friends' hand.

"Where were you last night?"

"You're going to hate me if I tell you."

"No I won't."

"Yes you will."

"I swear, Hazel, I won't!"

"Fine. I slept with Oliver."

" _Again_?"

"Yes."

"You're an idiot."

"I know."

"You're an idiot but I don't hate you. Want to go to breakfast?"

"Merlin, yes. Let me freshen up first though." Hazel was incredibly grateful for her friend's understanding. She wasn't feeling conflicted about it this time so much as guilty as she got off her bed and crossed to the bathroom, washing the previous night's smudged mascara off of her face. She hoped that Oliver wasn't going to ask her out again and she knew Fred was going to be out of sorts about it.

Hazel returned to her bed and, after Veronica made sure the coast was clear, they ventured down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

"Want to hear what else happened last night?" Veronica teased on their way, going back into gossip mode.

"What?" Hazel said, only half-interested as she had just noticed she was still wearing Oliver's shirt.

"Fred and Loretta slept together! Apparently they made a bet that if Gryffindor won the house cup she would boldly go where no girl has gone before."

"Yeah, I figured as much. I saw them leave the party together last night." She admitted, the flame returning to her stomach. It combined with the cold stab of guilt that made her stomach churn and her limbs tremble. Or perhaps that was just the hangover. In either case, she needed to eat something soon.

She spotted Oliver at the table with a few of his mates and strode over, motioning for Veronica to go on without her. She tapped him on the shoulder and he turned, a sexy smirk on his handsome face.

"Oliver, a word?" she asked and he stood. She led him out into the entrance hall and pulled him behind a statue.

"About last night…"

"It was great, wasn't it?" He said, running his hand down her side in a way that gave her shivers. He buried his face in her neck and planted small, tickling kisses along her collarbone.

"We can't keep doing this!" She said as she pushed him away, "I was drunk and sad and jealous. Last night was great, yes, but it can't happen again!" she whispered urgently as she heard voices pass by the statue.

"I know that."

His words caught her by surprise. "You do?"

"Course I do. Look, I know you don't have feelings for me and that's okay. I've given it a lot of thought and…I don't really have feelings for you either. Last night was fantastic, but we'll just leave it at that, shall we?"

"That's a…very mature decision." Hazel said, positively gobsmacked.

"Yeah, well it was bound to happen eventually. Friends, then?" he asked, offering her his hand. She took it and shook, relief flooding her body.

"Oh, Hazel?" he said, stopping at the edge of the alcove.

"Yeah?"

"I'll be wanting that shirt back eventually." He said, the smirk returning to his face. She rolled her eyes and promised to get it back to him soon.

He left the alcove first, and she followed shortly after. Her stomach gurgled urgently as she joined Veronica at the Gryffindor table, immediately diving into a plate of sausages. The owls arrived and Hazel recognized the one she had sent to Egypt finally landing in front of her, sticking out his leg. She untied the letter and stuck it in her pocket for later.

She felt immensely better, but quickly returned to the queasy mess she'd been before as Fred and George sauntered into the Great Hall. There was something different about Fred, something in the way he comported himself with a new confidence that Hazel couldn't ignore. It was all at once incredibly attractive and absolutely upsetting. She felt the jealousy bubbling up again and silenced it with a scone.

George sat next to Veronica and they quickly dissolved into a whispering, giggling mound, completely ignoring Fred and Hazel who were sitting on either side of them. After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence between them, Hazel sighed loudly and moved over to sit next to the unoccupied twin.

"Morning Hazel," he said brightly, spearing some bacon with his fork.

"That it is." She said grumpily, not appreciating his flippant attitude.

"Why so stormy, little thundercloud?" he asked obnoxiously, going so far as to pinch her cheek. She swatted him away.

"Look, about this morning…" she started.

"Don't worry about it." He said, his voice hardening slightly.

"I just wanted to explain -!"

"There's nothing to explain. You're whole, 'no boys before O.W.L.s rule' clearly doesn't apply to _men_ like Wood." He said, bitterly stabbing another slice of bacon.

"I was drunk! And lonely! And jea-…just lonely." She caught herself before she could admit that she was jealous of Loretta. She knew he would never let her live it down.

He looked at her through narrowed eyes for a second before his eyes brightened and a smile returned to his face.

"Forget about it. It's funny really, like you and I have come full circle this year." He smirked down at his plate of breakfast.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I started off the year snogging Loretta and ended the year shagging her. You started the year shagging Wood and swearing off boys, and you're ending the year shagging Wood again. It's just a bit funny is all." He said when he noticed she looked extremely nonplussed.

"Yeah, hilarious." She said, snatching some pastries and wrapping them in a piece of scrap fabric before shoving them in her pockets.

"Still feeding that stray?" Fred asked casually, trying to repair whatever he'd just broken.

"Yes, and I'll thank you to keep your voice down." She said testily, getting up and storming out of the hall. Why had his face brightened so suddenly? Arrogant, officious prick, she thought as she went out to the Whomping Willow and entered the secret passage. Her thoughts consumed her as she strolled down the tunnel as she was in no hurry to get there and have yet another fight with Sirius.

Had he known she was about to say 'jealous?' Was he jealous of Wood? She had rejected Fred on the train back, but that had been months ago. Before their date, before Hazel realized she may have feelings for him. Things between them had shifted dramatically, but Hazel couldn't pinpoint exactly when or why.

She approached the door but instead of letting herself in, she opened the door a crack and left the food on the floor just inside. She knew it was cruel to leave him alone, but she just couldn't stand another fight. She had studying to get to. Silently apologizing to Sirius, she turned and walked briskly back up the tunnel.

* * *

' _Hazel,_

 _I do apologize for the tardiness of this letter; I've only just returned from a particularly difficult extraction from a tomb in Thebes to discover your letter on my desk. I would be more than happy to answer your questions about Curse-Breaking, but doing it in letters would take forever and be rather tedious. I will be home for the Quidditch World Cup this summer if you wanted to get together around then and have a bit of a chat. You'll have your O.W.L.s by then, too, which will help determine some things._

 _My brothers speak very highly of you, and yes, Flitwick did mention something about sending a few students of his my way. He mentioned you by name and said you were incredibly talented. Creating your own charms and such, which is rather impressive._

 _How about instead of wearing out another Hogwarts owl I will write you when I'm back in Britain? We can make arrangements from there. I should be back toward the end of July, as I am taking a long holiday. (The summer heat in Egypt is torture!) I look forward to meeting you!_

 _Cheers,_

 _Bill Weasley'_

She was sitting in the weak May sunshine by the beech tree as she read the letter. Looking out across the lake, she felt a twinge of excitement at meeting another of Fred and George's brothers and getting some answers about curse-breaking. Her meeting with Professor McGonagall a few weeks prior had gone well enough, except for one small thing.

"You see, Miss Herrod, the issue is that you elected to take Divination instead of Arithmancy, and Gringotts needs at least an O.W.L. in that course as a requirement for any position."

Hazel's heart sunk, "Well I was hoping I could take the O.W.L. exam for it anyway. You see, I was in advanced maths in my Muggle school and I got all the way up to intermediate algebra. Angelina Johnson says that's about where they are in Arithmancy, so I was hoping I could just take a refresher course and sit the exam. I know I'm going to fail Divination anyway."

"This is highly unorthodox, Miss Herrod."

"I know." Hazel said quietly.

"We usually do not allow students to take O.W.L. exams for subjects for which they are not prepared." McGonagall interlaced her fingers and leaned forward over her desk.

"I understand, Professor." Hazel's eyes sunk to the floor and her hopes all but disappeared. McGonagall pursed her lips.

"However, you are an exceptional student. I have no doubt that you would be able to pass the exam, but it is not my decision. I will speak with Professor Vector and if she approves it, we may proceed from there."

"Really?" the wind returned to Hazel's sails and her eyes brightened.

"Keep in mind that she may insist on examining you herself just to be sure you won't embarrass her on the O.W.L.s."

"Thank you Professor! This means so much!"

"In the future, you may want to consider how your long-term goals factor into your present situation before committing to classes and the like." McGonagall said pedantically before dismissing her.

So the next week Hazel sat a pre-exam examination with Professor Vector and received an E, which gave the Professor nothing but confidence in her, so she signed the permission slip to excuse Hazel from the Divination exam. Hazel also sat in on Arithmancy classes in order to catch up, which proved to be pretty difficult. This didn't discourage her though, as maths was one of the things she seemed naturally gifted at in her Muggle school.

O.W.L.s were fast approaching, but instead of collapsing into a large puddle of stress like all her other classmates were doing, Hazel remained calm. She kept her nose in her books and her nerves in check by reminding herself that her family businesses were there for her no matter what, like a giant safety net. Her other classmates couldn't say the same, so she kept those thoughts to herself.

Finally, the night before exams, Hazel lay in bed, stroking Leia's fur and perusing the Curse-Breaker pamphlet for the thousandth time when Veronica plopped down on her bed, her eyes quite red.

"What's wrong?" Hazel asked, sitting up.

"George and I broke up." She said quietly, wringing her hands in front of her.

"What? That prick! Right before exams? What did he say?"

"He said he didn't feel right stringing me along. He has feelings for someone else and has for a long time. He hoped that dating me would take his mind off of her but it didn't."

"Did he say who it was?" Hazel said, rubbing her friend's upper arm in an attempt to comfort her.

"No, but I've got my suspicions." Veronica cast a glance over toward Angelina's bed, "He was really nice about it, though, so it's not like I can even hate him."

"Want me to hex him for you? I've been working on some really nasty ones…" Hazel offered, only partly joking.

"No, I'll be fine. Just wanted you to know. We should get to sleep, charms exam tomorrow." Veronica said feebly, patting Leia before going to her bed and closing the curtains.

Later that night, while she couldn't sleep, Hazel could swear she heard sniffling and some light sobs coming from Veronica's bed but didn't want to hurt her pride by going to comfort her.

* * *

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	14. Red-Handed

**Chapter 14 in the house!**

 **Before my chapterly thanks I would like to address the whole Fred death situation. It's a ways off yet (approx. 3 years in story-time), but I haven't decided whether or not to kill him. I have ideas for Hazel's reactions either way, and I'm prepared to execute either option. As I said, though, it's a ways away so I hope to make up my mind before then!**

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* * *

Hazel breezed through the O.W.L.s. The Arithmancy exam gave her a bit of trouble, as did the Potions practical, but she was confident that she had at least passed every exam. She had a bit of an ego where academics were concerned.

To show support for Veronica, she had stayed away from Fred and George, who seemed to be taking O.W.L.s seriously, which was strange on a couple of levels. Hazel could only assume they had a rather large heist planned for after exams, so they were keeping their heads down. There wasn't much talking going on between exams or during meals, so avoiding them was fairly easy.

There was no practical exam for Arithmancy, so Hazel and Angelina had that afternoon off while the rest of their friends were taking their Divination practical. Angelina was quizzing Hazel for their History of Magic final the next day in the warm June breeze in the courtyard outside the Transfiguration classroom.

"Name three consequences of the Goblin Riots of the eighteenth century." She said, her textbook propped up on her knees. She was leaning against a smooth marble column and Hazel was lying on her stomach on a blanket, soaking in the sunshine.

"Oh I don't care anymore! I've been studying and reviewing for _months_! I'm officially done!" Hazel said dramatically, flipping over onto her back, regarding Angelina upside-down.

"Come on, only one more exam left."

"Nope, I am officially one hundred percent, certifiably done. I do not care if I bomb History of Magic, I don't need that N.E.W.T. anyway! I will be down by the lake relaxing if you need me." She said, bundling her things on her blanket and carrying it out of the castle.

Halfway down to the lake she turned back, remembering her promise to Sirius. She figured that with exams and end-of-the-year activities now would be her best chance to sneak into the youngest Weasley boy's room and find that rat.

She was rifling through Ron's trunk when she heard the door open and close, but instead of Ron or Harry or any of the other third-year boys, the worst possible person stood there, staring at her in shock.

"Just what do you think you are doing?" Percy Weasley asked, dumbfounded as to why a fifth year girl would be searching elbow-deep in Ronald's trunk.

"Oh, well, you see, Ron borrowed a book of mine earlier this year and I was just looking to get it back." Hazel improvised. Percy regarded her dubiously.

"You know that girls are not allowed in the boys' dormitory." He said, crossing his arms in front of himself.

"Yes, I do, except that I really needed this book back before the end of the year and I wasn't sure I would see Ron with exams and everything…" she babbled, playing with her fingers as she said it.

"Right. Come with me." Percy said, seeing right through her rouse. Ron would never willingly borrow a book from _anyone_. Percy wasn't even sure Ron knew how to read anything besides Chudley Cannon statistics and Quidditch scores.

He led her down to McGonagall's office and knocked on the door despite Hazel's protestations that the school year was almost over, there wasn't enough time to have a detention so why even bother? The house cup was going to be announced soon, too, and did he really want to take points away now?

"Enter." Said the voice of Minerva McGonagall. Percy opened the door and ushered Hazel inside.

"Professor, I caught Miss Herrod here out of bounds." He said curtly as the Professor turned and regarded Hazel over the top of her glasses.

"Where was she?"

"I caught her in the boys' dormitory, rummaging through my brother's things."

"Is this true, Miss Herrod?" McGonagall asked. Hazel could hear the disappointment in her voice.

"Yes, professor."

"Thank you, Weasley, you may go. And why were you rummaging through Mr. Weasley's things?"

"I was looking to retrieve a book he had borrowed." Hazel wasn't sure why they hadn't named the Weasley in question, and assumed that if they hadn't it didn't matter in the grand scheme of things.

"Of course you were. We all know how those Weasleys are voracious readers." She said dryly before sighing, "I suppose making you serve detention at this point would be futile." She rose to her feet and crossed to one of the many bookshelves, her fingers flittering over the spines before coming to rest on one particular book.

"Miss Herrod, over summer break you are to read this book and summarize in no less than eighteen inches of parchment the main arguments and counterarguments that Haworth presents, with a particular focus in the theory of transfiguration. You will turn it in to me no later than the first day of classes next academic year, is that clear?" She held out the book to Hazel, who took it and nodded her assent.

Homework over break? She would much rather have had detentions. Scrubbing down the trophy room or writing lines seemed much more preferable than having an enormous essay hanging over her head all summer. McGonagall dismissed her and Hazel clutched the book to her chest as she made her way back up to her dorm, where an owl she recognized as one of her grandparents was waiting atop her bed frame. It dropped the letter on the bed then took off through the open window, not waiting for a response.

Hazel threw the book in her trunk and opened the letter excitedly. She hadn't heard from her grandparents in a while.

 _'Dearest Hazel,_

 _We are so excited that you are nearly home! You will not believe what special guests we have staying with us for the summer! I won't spoil the surprise, but they are très drôle! We also have sort of a gift for you courtesy of the Ministry. Your grandfather arranged it so that the fireplace in your flat will be hooked up to the Floo Network for the duration of the summer holiday! That way you don't have to inconvenience your father to have him drive you out here in his sad little car every time you want to visit. And your schoolmates can visit you too! We have already informed him of this, and he thinks it's a great idea as well! It's listed under, 'Herrod's_ _flat, Yorkshire_ _' that last part is important! The first time your grandfather tried it he ended up in the basement of Harrod's in London! That silly man!_

 _We hope you have a safe trip home and await your presence for dinner! Your father has included a letter as well._

 _Love,_

 _Grandma'_

Hazel tore open the second letter and scanned it for hints as to her big summer surprise. Every year, without fail, Daniel planned a trip or special outing that was just the two of them. Last summer they had spent a week in New York City, the summer before that they had gone to a Proclaimers concert in Edinburgh, so Hazel was anxious to know what this year had in store.

 _'Hazel,_

 _I'm afraid I will not be able to come pick you up at King's Cross this time round, but I've included your train ticket back to York in this letter. You're sixteen now, I trust that you can get yourself onto a train home. If not, you've got the emergency card or I'm sure there's some magical way for you to get back up to York. I will wait for you at home with your special surprise. Actually, a few special surprises. I really think you'll love both of them. And no, one of them is not that your grandparents hooked our fireplace up to the Phloo network, whatever that is._

 _Also, thank you so much for the Sneakoscope! I've put it on the counter in the shop and it's stopped three attempted thefts so far!_

 _I miss you kiddo, and can't wait for you to get home._

 _Love,_

 _Dad'_

Hazel giggled with excitement and ran down to the common room. She tried to wait patiently for her friends to return, and ended up having to read a book to keep from inviting everyone to her flat this summer. She had never had her Hogwarts friends over during the summer before, and she started making a list of where to take them. Veronica and Angelina would most definitely want to visit Coney Street and Betty's, and she would take Fred and George through the Shambles and maybe to a pub; they would definitely need to roll down the hill of Clifford's Tower. All of them would have to climb the Minster Tower together and walk along the city walls.

Veronica was the first to return, as her last name was Denham, which meant she got called in relatively early. The boys wouldn't be back until close to dinner and she didn't know when Angelina would be finished with her incessant studying.

"Guess what?" Hazel said excitedly, pulling Veronica down on the couch with her.

"You ate one of those mystery custard creams I found in my trunk last night?" Veronica said skeptically, looking at Hazel as if she were having a fit.

"No! My flat is now part of the Floo Network! You can come visit me this summer!"

"What? That's excellent! I'll have to double check with my parents because I think they're dragging me to the middle of nowhere again, but I will most definitely set a date to come visit! Oh, this is exciting!" Veronica gasped.

"So how did Divination go?" Hazel asked once their excitement simmered down.

"Ugh. Absolute rubbish. So glad I can drop it next year. How was Arithmancy, Miss I'm-Above-the-System?" Veronica joked, nudging Hazel's arm with her own.

"It went well. There were a few questions that gave me trouble, but I think I passed at least. All I need is the O.W.L., not the N.E.W.T." Hazel dismissed, nudging Veronica back.

The Weasley boys didn't return to the common room until after dinner, but when they did they had large smiles on their faces. To spare Veronica the embarrassment, she walked over to them.

"Hello boys." She said congenially.

"Hello Hazel, how were your exams?" George asked.

"Fine, and yours?"

"Excellent." They answered together.

"So to my point, my flat is now part of the Floo Network. If you both wanted to stop by sometime this summer, you'd be more than welcome." She offered.

"Sure, what's it listed under?" George said casually, stuffing his hands in his pockets. Fred was noticeably silent.

"Herrod's flat, Yorkshire. Make sure you specify, because otherwise you'll end up in the basement of the posh department store in London." She said, going back to Veronica.

"That was easy." George said as he noticed Percy crossing back over to Hazel.

"What d'you think that's all about?" Fred said, gesturing toward their brother and friend. They watched as Hazel cursed and got up, exiting the portrait hole.

"Dunno. Let's ask him then, Hey Percy!" George yelled, striding over to his older brother who regarded them with nothing but contempt.

"I already told you, mum and dad will pick us up at King's Cross. They obviously don't trust you lot to get home on your own." He said snobbishly.

"No, what were you talking to Hazel about?" Fred asked.

"Oh, that. I caught her in the boys' dorm earlier. Said she was looking for a book, but I saw through that straightaway. McGonagall just wanted to see her to clarify her punishment."

Fred's face blanched and he tore up to his room. He took _The Princess Bride_ out from under his pillow and sighed. She hadn't found it, which meant she didn't know he was the one who borrowed it. He had read it twice through and had loved it. He wanted nothing more than to sit down and talk with her about it, but he knew she'd be furious when she found out it was he who had taken it.

He sighed and sat on the bed. Crisis averted.

For now.

* * *

"Professor?" Hazel asked, opening the door to McGonagall's classroom after politely waiting for a response. Percy had made it sound rather urgent, so she let herself in.

Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape were huddled in the far corner of the office. It was rather late, and Hazel wasn't sure if she should interrupt.

"Are you sure, Severus?" McGonagall asked in an urgent tone.

"Yes. He is loose on the grounds somewhere." Snape droned.

"Well, I suppose he will turn up eventually. It's too dangerous to send someone out to find him tonight. And Black has been caught?" McGonagall sighed.

"Yes, Dumbledore put him in Flitwick's office."

Hazel's blood froze. Sirius had been caught? How? How much longer did he have until the dementors got to him? Hazel had to see him before then, she had to say goodbye, had to apologize…

No, she had to clear his name. Careful to remain silent, she backed out of McGonagall's classroom and dashed to the statue of a griffin that she knew led to Dumbledore's office.

"Dammit, move!" she yelled at the statue, pushing on it desperately.

"That's not the password." A deep voice said from behind her, echoing slightly in the empty hallway. Hazel turned and saw the Headmaster staring at her through his half-moon spectacles.

"Sorry, Headmaster. I just really needed to speak with you."

"Is everything alright, Hazel?" he asked calmly.

"No, it's not. There's an atrocity about to take place. Sirius Black is innocent!" she half-yelled. The Headmaster shushed her and ushered her over to the griffin statue once more.

"We should discuss this in my office. Fizzing Whizbee." He said, and the Griffin started to move, revealing a spiral staircase. It was at this moment that Hazel realized that she'd never seen the Headmaster's office until now, which was probably for the best.

They entered his office and Hazel looked around nervously. Delicate silver instruments were whirring quietly on small tables, and there were numerous portraits of past Headmasters on the wall, most of who were sleeping. Despite being an office, it had a very homey feel to it that gave Hazel a sense of amity. Dumbledore walked behind his desk and shuffled a few papers around before speaking, his long fingers resting on the papers as he spoke to her.

"I know that you have been helping Sirius since October," he said gravely, holding up a hand to stop Hazel from speaking. "And I do not fault you for it. The kindness you have in your heart wouldn't let you simply turn him away. His connection with your mother no doubt held some interest for you as well."

"Yes, Professor. But I didn't know he was an animagus until six weeks ago. Headmaster, please, you've got to believe me when I say he's innocent! Peter Pettigrew set him up!" she said, becoming quite agitated.

"I understand your concern, Hazel. And I believe you. However, this is a rather delicate situation, but I've got people handling it as we speak. No innocent blood shall be spilt tonight." He reassured her. His soft words wrapped around her and she breathed deeply, feeling the panic soften.

"Can…can I see him, Professor? I need to apologize. I need to see him before whatever happens…happens." She explained calmly.

"I do not think that is wise, Hazel. However, I do expect that you will be reunited with him soon enough." The old man said with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. Not exactly reassured but not doubting Dumbledore's sincerity, Hazel thanked him and left.

Back in the common room Hazel sat down between Veronica and Angelina, her hands knitted together and her gaze fixed on the floor as she tried to not break down into a bundle of nerves.

"Hazel? Hello?" Veronica said, waving her hand in front of her face. This temporarily broke Hazel's speculations and she looked at her friend with empty eyes.

"What?"

"What did McGonagall want?" Angelina asked as if for the thousandth time.

"Oh, nothing. Just something about a paper I'm writing for her this summer." Hazel dismissed.

"You're voluntarily doing homework over the summer? Inconceivable!" Fred exclaimed from behind her. She looked up at him and nodded unconvincingly, missing the reference to Vizzini that he had used purposely.

"I take my studies very seriously, Weasley. Now if you'll all excuse me, I'm going to bed." She said blankly, leaving before her friends could bother her about anything else. She was too worried about Sirius to care what they thought.

Fred felt culpable as he watched Hazel climb the stairs to her dorm. He didn't like the feeling and usually found guilt to be useless, letting it dissipate as easily and instinctively as a sigh. But now, the remorse had seemed to form a lump in his chest the no amount of breath could disintegrate. Hazel was in a right state and it was because of him, he knew it.

Tomorrow marked the end of O.W.L.s, then they would all be on the train back home the following Sunday. Fred decided to bide his time. After all, she was now reachable via Floo Network. He would just have to live with the guilty conscience as he had been for sixteen years.

What were a few more weeks?

* * *

Hazel could barely keep her eyes open the next morning for the History of Magic exam. She wrote brief, most likely incorrect answers and did not care in the least that she was finished after only an hour had passed. She had been awake the entire night previous tossing and turning and occasionally sobbing with worry. That morning she had rolled out of bed and into her rumpled uniform. She looked like hell and she knew it, but did not care as she planted her chin in her hand and dozed off.

Two hours later she was awakened by a rather rude kick to the shin by Angelina, who pulled her out of her desk as they exited the Great Hall.

"Did you sleep for the whole test?" she asked incredulously.

"No, I answered all the questions. Then I went to sleep. And in fact," she yawned, "I think I'm going to spend the afternoon napping. Wake me when it's time for dinner, eh?"

"But the boys have plans! We were all going to go out to the lake for the afternoon." Angelina protested but Hazel wouldn't hear of it.

"No way, if I fall asleep by the Lake I have a feeling I will be thrown in."

"I think you're right about that." Angelina smiled.

They chatted a bit about the test, but since Hazel had fallen asleep she didn't really remember that much of it. They got to their dormitory and Hazel immediately went back to her bed. Before she flopped down on it she gasped. Sitting on her pillow was _The Princess Bride_ and an envelope with her name on it written in familiar penmanship.

 _'Hazel,_

 _Sorry I didn't mention this earlier, but I am the one who stole your book. Well, not so much stole as borrowed. You left it down in the common room before Christmas, and I picked it up to see what all the fuss was about._

 _I devoured it. And then I read it again. I loved every second of it._

 _Since it's almost the end of term, I decided it's about time to return it. Please don't be angry with me, for I am a simple farm boy with a head full of rocks._

 _Frederick Fabian Weasley_

 _P.S. Use my full name in front of anyone and you will live to_ deeply _regret it!'_

Hazel didn't know how to feel. Fred had stolen her book, which had caused her first panic attack in six years, but then returned it. After he had read it through. Twice. He and George had given her so much grief for the title on the train last fall, but he had ended up loving it. In the end, she decided to forgive him.

Especially after she opened the book. As she cracked the front cover open, the book began to glow and something rose out of the binding, twisting and unfolding almost as if it were growing.

A single white daisy unfurled its petals and gazed up happily at her. She couldn't help but smile, a wild blush racing across her cheeks. He remembered.

On their walk back from their very successful not-a-date to Hogsmeade, their arms loaded down with their purchases, Hazel had stopped in the middle of the path.

"What is it?" Fred asked, turning back to her as he had continued on a few steps past her.

Hazel stared at a small crest on the left side of the path that was entirely covered with small, white daisies. She smiled to herself and replied, "Nothing. Everything's great."

Fred looked between Hazel's face and the crest. "What makes you say that?"

"Just something my dad used to say. It's not important, let's go." She said, brushing it off.

"No, what is it?"

"Why must you know?" She demanded gently.

"I'm a very curious young man."

"More like incorrigible."

"I don't know the meaning of the word!" He smirked at her, which made her own smile widen.

"Fine. My mum always used to say 'you can't be sad when you've got daisies about.' So whenever I got sad as a kid, my dad would get me happy white daisies to cheer me up. It's just one of those little connections I've still got with my mum…" she looked down at her hands, aware of how childish her story sounded.

"And were you sad leaving Hogsmeade just now? Did you have that rotten of a time that you needed a massive cheering up?" Fred joked, nudging her shoulder with his fist.

"No, it's just…daisies make me happy and here's a whole shitload of them. It's like a sign or something." She muttered, gesturing to the flowers. Fred didn't say anything, just chuckled a bit and wrapped a long arm around her shoulders, steering her back toward the castle.

And now, months and mistakes later, he had remembered.

Forgetting all about her nap or how tired she was, Hazel slipped on some shoes and dashed out of the dormitory down toward the Black Lake. She didn't have a plan or really any clue as to what she was going to say or do, she just knew she had to find Fred. She got caught in a stampede of third-year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs who were heading back into the castle after their Care of Magical Creatures final, and she pushed through them as quickly as she could.

As she approached the most beach-like area of the Black Lake, she heard the shouts and laughter of her friends and, just as she crested the hill she caught sight of Fred. His back was turned to her, and she was about to call out his name but before she could he turned and Hazel's stomach dropped to her feet.

Attached to his lips was Loretta.

* * *

 **"Reviews are all you need!" - The Beatles...oh wait, that was Love. Love is all you need.**


	15. Felix Felicis

**Hello All! Chapter 15!**

 **It's summertime for Hazel and things are going to start getting tricky! You're going to love what happens over the next few chapters set in Hazel's hometown, York UK! In Fall 2013 I studied abroad in York, UK and fell in love with it! I think that comes through in my writing. I just wanted to warn you all that I am a little biased toward the city :)**

 **Follows: Lauren212, Cyd1991, Lovingyouisbest, 19irene96, MagicLover16, longitudinal fissure, animeluver2112, mspink12, TiarnaSPN, Arianna Mitoko, and nwendte9! Thank you all!**

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* * *

Hazel sat alone in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express, Leia meowling loudly in her basket as Hazel stared at the words on the page of _The Princess Bride._

'I have lived my life with only the prayer that some sudden dawn you might glance in my direction. I have not known a moment in years when the sight of you did not send my heart careening against my rib cage. I have not known a night when your visage did not accompany me to sleep. There has not been a morning when you did not flutter behind my waking eyelids….Is any of this getting through to you, Buttercup, or do you want me to go on for a while?'

In the multitudes of times she had read the novel she could not figure out why this speech of Westley's had not made it into the film version. Without a doubt, the film was utterly perfect and it was Hazel's unequivocal favorite, but seeing Cary Elwes say these words in her mind's eye made her knees weak and her heart swoon.

This passage was also underlined in ink. Books were sacred objects to Hazel, so she never, never, _never_ wrote in them lest it affect the resale value (a lesson that had been drilled into her head from a young age). The only conclusion she had come to was that Fred had underlined it, but why? Was he trying to send her a message or was he simply entranced by the words? Surely he didn't love her. He was back to snogging Loretta if Veronica was to be believed.

After an emotionally exhausting couple of days, Hazel was glad to be going home. She was also glad that she was taking the train back to York alone. It would allow her some quiet time to think things over. Sure, she wouldn't get home until nearly ten o'clock that night, but she absolutely needed time to herself. The last few days had been a flurry of plan making and packing and saying summertime goodbyes, which had left Hazel drained.

She knew it was naive to think she'd have the compartment to herself, and was quickly proven right as a giggly group of Hufflepuff fourth-year girls entered and asked to sit. Hazel agreed and turned her eyes back to her book.

"Who is she?" asked one of them in a whisper. Hazel only assumed they meant her.

"That's Allegra's ex-best friend. Apparently she made a pass at Eric earlier in the year and they had a huge falling-out." Another one whispered. Hazel scoffed at the suggestion, but quickly coughed to cover it.

"Isn't she the one who had sex with the Gryffindor Quidditch captain in the Astronomy tower?" Apparently they hadn't gotten the hint that Hazel could hear them.

"Yeah, she is. A bit pathetic, eh?"

"Definitely."

"Alright, if you bimbos want to keep talking about me I suggest you take your shit and leave." Hazel said angrily, looking up from her book and directly at them. "Now!" she shouted, making them jump and grab their things. Hazel thought she heard one of them say, "Rude," on her way out.

The rest of the ride passed uneventfully and, finally, they arrived at King's Cross where Hazel eagerly disembarked and checked the departures board for her train to York.

Two hours later she was hiring a taxi to bring her and her trunk and her cat home. On the train she had figured out that she and Fred were caught in a vicious cycle of sorts; one of them (usually Fred) would act upon their feelings, then the other (usually Hazel) would derail it. One step forward, two steps back in an increasingly frustrating flirtation. She had yet to come up with a solution as the taxi whizzed by the many glowing pubs and houses of York, coming to a stop in front of her own. Paying the man with a generous tip, she lugged her trunk onto the curb and put Leia's basket on top of it.

The shop was dark, the front door on the right was locked up tight she knew, but the one on the left that opened on a steep staircase was unlocked. She threw it open and called up to her father, who came bounding down the stairs and wrapped her in a Daniel Herrod signature bone-crushing hug.

"You're home! I missed you so much!" he said, holding her at arms length, "Have you gotten taller?"

"A bit, I think. How've you been? How is everyone?" She said as he crossed to her trunk and hefted it over one shoulder. They climbed the stairs as Daniel filled her in and Hazel took a deep breath in as she opened the door to their flat. It smelled exactly the same, like old books and bergamot. The living room off to her left was tidy for a change and looking down the hallway to her right she saw the door to her bedroom cracked. She let her cat out of the basket and ran down the short hall, bursting through the door and diving into her bed.

"Hello room! I missed you!" she said, snuggling with as many pillows as possible. Hazel loved her bedroom more than almost any other place on earth. It was her Fortress of Solitude, her Batcave, her sanctuary, and her lair. The navy blue walls were covered with posters for her favorite movies and Muggle bands and the three mismatched bookshelves held not only her personal book collection, but her VHS tapes and CDs as well.

When she was home for the summer, Hazel was as much a normal Muggle as possible. She listened to CDs on her stereo, went to see movies in theaters, and watched Muggle TV just as she had before Hogwarts. Her summers were her time to feel relatively normal again, and since she couldn't use magic anyway, she embraced it wholeheartedly.

"Hazel, can you come out here for a minute?" her dad called from the living room. She had almost forgotten! Her surprises!

In the living room, her dad was sitting on the sofa and patted the spot next to him. She sat and he passed an envelope, which she ripped open and screamed when she saw what was inside.

"R.E.M. tickets! These are supposed to be impossible to get! Thank you Dad!" she yelled, giving him a side-hug. She pulled the tickets out of the envelope and noticed something strange, her excitement ebbing a bit.

"Dad, why are there three tickets? Bringing the cat, are we?" she laughed, nervous about his response.

Daniel folded his hands in front of him and laughed lightly, not looking at his daughter. "No, Hazel, we aren't bringing the cat."

"Then who is the third ticket for?"

Daniel sighed a long sigh, "I've been seeing someone." He admitted.

"You've been seeing someone?"

"It's getting pretty serious."

"It's getting pretty serious?" Hazel's voice was getting higher like it did when she was upset.

"Is there an echo in here?"

"I'm sorry, I'm just processing. This is…unexpected." She said, landing on a less offensive word than 'absurd'.

"Her name is Julia and I really think you'll like her." Daniel hadn't really dated since Laurel had died, mostly for Hazel's sake rather than his own. He didn't want his daughter to feel like he was forgetting about or trying to replace her mum, so he stuck to casual once-a-year flings with whatever woman his mates' wives were friends with.

"Julia? Is she a Beatles' song?" Hazel asked. How could he do this to her? Their lives were getting along just fine with just the two of them.

"No, she's not a Beatles song. She's one of Steve's wife Jackie's mates from work. She just moved here from Birmingham and doesn't really know anyone."

"She _just_ moved here and you're getting serious?"

"Well, January."

"You've been seeing her since January?! And you didn't even mention it!" Hazel leapt off the couch and threw the tickets on the coffee table, facing her father. They told each other everything, or at least they _had_. Hazel didn't consider all that she had kept from him this last year.

"I thought it would be better to tell you in person. Besides, I didn't want you getting all upset before your exams." Daniel defended uncertainly. His arguments that had made so much sense to him mere hours ago seemed flimsy now.

"I can't believe you! You've been perfectly fine alone until now, what's changed? Hmm? Why are you ruining our perfectly good lives by introducing someone else into the mix?" Hazel shouted, eyes prickling and arms flapping about wildly.

"I'm in love with her, Hazel! That's what's changed!" he blurted.

For the first time in her life, Hazel hated her father for his humanity. She had always known, in the back of her mind, that her dad was a person with needs, much like every other person (including herself). Never had she faulted him for it because he had always been her father first, and a person second. He would hide, however clumsily, his yearly trysts with whatever bint his mates sent his way and Hazel was perfectly fine with that.

But now it seemed the entire atmosphere in their flat had changed. It was no longer going to be Hazel and Daniel, partners in crime and best of friends. It would be Hazel and Daniel and _Julia_ , and Hazel had the sinking feeling that she would be pushed into third wheel position.

She pursed her lips and clamped her jaw down, running to her room before he could see her cry. Into her stereo she threw Nirvana's _Nevermind_ album and tried to remember why she was glad to be home.

* * *

Three days had passed and, despite Daniel's attempts to make nice with Hazel, she was still only addressing him in one-word sentences.

"Morning, Hazel, want some breakfast?"

"Yes."

"Want to help in the shop today?"

"No."

"You think it'll rain later?"

"Dunno."

And so it went. She was as stubborn as her mother and spent her time moping around the flat, reading back issues of _X-Men_ and _Spider-Man._ One day Daniel had decided he'd had enough as she circled the couch and lay down, cracking into another one of the comic books.

"Alright, that's it!" he said, slamming down his mug of tea.

"What?" she said, poking her head over the back of the couch.

"You are not wasting you summer vacation inside. Get out. Go somewhere."

"Where?" she asked again, standing and gesturing about.

"Anywhere but here. Go for a walk, go see your grandparents, just go go go!" He said, pushing her toward the stairs and slamming the apartment door. She was stunned, but put on her shoes and tried to think of somewhere to go. Suddenly she remembered that her grandparents had invited her over to meet their "special guests." Hazel knocked on the door and her father answered.

"Can I help you young lady?" he asked in an overdrawn posh tone.

"I'm going to grandma and grandpa's, I need to use the fireplace." She explained earnestly.

"I am aghast! Agog! The lady is able respond with more than a single word!" he said, throwing himself against the doorjamb and pulling his hand up to his forehead dramatically.

Hazel fought the smile, but lost as she passed her dad. "I'll be back later." She promised, moving into the living room and entering the fireplace.

She landed rather dizzily on her grandparent's sitting room rug and looked around. Her grandmother was primly sipping tea on one of the sofas nearby and flipping through the _Daily Prophet._ She looked over at Hazel and beamed.

"Hello, dear! It's about time!" she said, putting her tea down on the table and standing, holding her arms out welcomingly.

"Hello Gran! It's good to see you!" Hazel said, leaping into her grandmother's warm embrace.

"Would you like something to eat? Gingy!" she called the house-elf, but Hazel declined.

"No, Gran, I'm fine. I just thought I'd come by for the day and meet your special guests."

Renatta's face brightened, "Oh, of course! Unfortunately dear, they are all currently- oh, I suppose Felix is still here. Gingy, will you go get him?" she asked and the house-elf complied.

"They? As in plural?"

"Yes, dear, we've got the French Ambassador for Magic and his entourage staying with us. Your grandfather has gotten it into his head that he's going to start a winery in France soon, expand the line and all that. Unfortunately they are all at the Ministry talking about…well, you'll find out soon enough I guess. But the ambassador's intern is his nephew Felix, and he stayed back today. He's about your age and _very_ handsome!" her grandmother said suggestively and Hazel rolled her eyes. The absolute last thing she needed was a summer fling with a Frenchman.

"How've you been? How were the O.W.L.s? I'm sure you just breezed right through them!" She shepherded Hazel over to the sofa and sat down next to her, peppering her with questions that Hazel did her best to answer. She didn't really feel like being social, but she hadn't seen her grandmother since Christmas and had missed her.

They were soon joined by Gingy, who entered the room with the most gorgeous man Hazel had ever seen in tow. He was tall and well-built, with long, thick brown hair that he had lazily pushed out of his dark blue eyes. His jawline, long and slightly pointed, made Hazel's mouth dry out as they stood again. His not-too-full lips curved into a perfect bow and were begging to be kissed; his outfit looked like he had just fallen out of the pages of Vogue. Perhaps a summer fling with a Frenchman wouldn't be so bad after all…

Renatta glided over to him and greeted him with kisses on each cheek as Hazel stood there gaping at him, cursing herself for not putting on any makeup before she left the flat. She was wearing a pair of cut off shorts and a rumpled green t-shirt and was very aware that she hadn't showered in three days. Luckily, her hair wasn't that greasy and she didn't stink, so she thought she could get away with it.

"Ah! Felix, there you are! _Ceci est ma petite-fille,_ Hazel." Her grandmother introduced her in French and Hazel internally swore, she didn't want a language barrier to stand in her way.

"Ah, _bonjour_ Hazel." He said, resting his hands on her shoulders and greeting her the French way, as her grandmother had greeted him. Hazel could feel her cheeks start on fire in the places he had kissed her.

" _Bonjour_ , Felix." She said shyly.

"Hazel, Felix goes to Beauxbatons and he's just finished up his sixth year. Hazel just finished her fifth year at Hogwarts." Renatta explained, looking between the two.

"Oh, _vraiment_?" he said, tucking his hands in his pockets.

"Hazel, maybe you'd like to show Felix around the grounds for a bit? They only just arrived and have spent most of their time at the Ministry." Renatta suggested, pushing Hazel toward the handsome Frenchman.

"Actually, I was hoping to explore the city today. Having a guide would be very helpful. Especially one as pretty as Hazel here." Felix said in a slightly accented voice that made Hazel melt. The way he pronounced her name as "Ay-zelle" made her go weak in the knees.

"Well, what do you say dear? Want to show Felix around town today?" Renatta asked, nodding her head from behind Felix's shoulder.

"Sure, why not?" Hazel shrugged. Felix ran back to his room and retrieved his sunglasses and camera that Hazel only assumed took moving pictures. Despite blocking his eyes, the sunglasses only added to his sexy mystique.

They headed back through the Floo Network to the flat. Hazel stumbled out of the small fireplace and would have tripped over the coffee table if not for a pair of strong hands that grabbed her upper arms and prevented her fall, pulling her back into a strong chest.

"Thanks." She said, nearly tripping over the table again in an attempt to disengage from his grasp.

"Do not mention it." He said, looking around the small apartment. "Is this where you live?"

"Yeah, this is where me and my dad live. We own the shop downstairs too." She said, straightening some papers on the table.

"What sort of shop?"

"Old books. Rare, collectible, out-of-print." She explained, leading him out the door and down the stairs. "So did you have anything specific you'd like to see?"

"I hear the view from the top of the Minster is quite breathtaking." He suggested.

"It is. Would you rather start or end there?" In all her planning for her friends to come to York, Hazel had devised many routes to explore the sights around her city. She figured that she would take Felix on one of those as sort of a test run for when Veronica or Fred and George showed up. Angelina and Lee were both traveling with their families over the holiday, so she didn't expect to see them.

"Let us do that first. I hear it is a long climb." They walked down the street and took a right, and then a quick left to get to Parliament Street.

"Yeah, it is. It's a beautiful view, though, you can see for miles on a clear day."

"Then we are lucky it is a clear day!"

"It might be now, but it can get very foggy very quickly." It was a clear day with small, infrequent clouds in the blue sky. The temperature was just over Hazel's ideal, but it was comfortable.

"Ah yes, your famous English weather. I guess I should get used to it."

"Why would you say that?"

"Oh, no reason. My uncle wishes to return to France as soon as he can, but I was planning on staying the whole summer at least." He brushed off as they passed out of the main square and onto the street of the Minster.

"Will you stay with my grandparents then?" Hazel inquired, excited at the prospect of having Felix just a Floo ride away. She then told herself she was being stupid, that she shouldn't jump into anything. She'd messed up too many relationships that way.

"If they will have me. I quite like them, they are _tr_ _è_ _s sympa_."

"I'm sure they will. My grandmother seems to like having you around." Hazel joked and he smiled, showing her his perfect teeth.

" _Oui_ , I think that she does. She is a little too old for me, though." He laughed.

Hazel laughed as well, "And she's married."

"That too." He said as they rounded the corner and the Minster came into view. Felix stopped in his tracks and gestured to it. "Wow! It is beautiful! Not as beautiful as Notre Dame, of course, but still…"

"Do you live in Paris, then?"

"Oui, in the seventh _arrondissment_. Just a few blocks from the Museé d'Orsay." He said, holding the door open for her.

"No way! I've always wanted to go! I love the Impressionists!" she exclaimed as she walked over to the counter and paid their admission.

"Hello Hazel! Been a while!" Cindy, the kindly middle-aged squib sitting behind the desk said.

"Yeah, it has. How's Jeremy?" she asked conversationally about Cindy's Muggle husband.

"He's doin' fine, thanks. I'll tell him you said hi."

"Please do!" she smiled as she and Felix walked toward the central tower.

"How do you two know each other?" he asked curiously.

"My grandfather has taken me to the Undercroft since I was little. It's in the basement of the Minster, Cindy's known me for years." Hazel said, nodding to the security guard who took their tickets. Hazel rather hated the two hundred-some stairs to get to the top of the tower, but she absolutely loved the view. Slightly out of breath, they reached the top and stepped out. Felix gasped.

" _Merde_." He said, stepping over to the railing. They weren't alone, as a small group of German (or possibly Belgian?) tourists was busy taking pictures of the city. Hazel joined Felix at the railing and leaned forward, resting her elbows against it.

"May I take your photo?" he asked, holding up his camera.

"Oh, well, I'm not really-"

"You look beautiful, and I wish to record all of the beautiful things I see in England. Please?" he pleaded and Hazel relented, trying to brush the hair out of her face as he took the picture.

" _Tr_ _è_ _s belle_." He commented, putting his camera back into his bag. Hazel's face lit up like a stoplight once again.

After taking in the bird's eye view of York, they descended the staircase and walked around the city's ancient walls before getting afternoon tea at the smaller version of Betty's in Harrogate. After that, they went back to Nithercott Manor and had Gingy serve them some lemonade while they sat on the veranda.

Hazel was completely transfixed by Felix. Not only was he handsome, but he was kind and clever and funny, and not to mention _incredibly_ gorgeous. By virtue of his heritage, he knew a lot about Muggle art and pop culture, and they bonded over their shared love of Post-Impressionist artists and Muggle movies.

As the sun sunk lower to the horizon, Felix's uncle and his party returned, along with Hazel's grandfather.

"Ah, Hazel! I see you've met our most handsome visitor?" he asked as he hugged his granddaughter.

"Yeah, we spent the day together. I showed him around York, we went up the Minster tower, it was great!" she beamed.

"Did you show him the Undercroft?" he asked, referring to the basement of the Minster where if one went through a specific door marked, 'Danger, Do not Enter!' you would find a small wizarding marketplace.

"No, but I told him about it." She said as her grandfather ushered her back into the house. "Maybe I'll take him down there at some point. What time is it?"

"It's half-six, why?"

"I should be getting home, the shop closes soon." She said, trying to head toward the sitting room fireplace. Her grandmother bustled over and grabbed her arm gently.

"Hazel, dear! We are having dinner in the formal dining room tonight, are you staying?" her grandmother asked.

"Oh, I'm really not dressed for it…"

"Nonsense! You can pop upstairs to your mother's room and find something! I'll take you there!" her grandmother said a tad too overzealously for Hazel to think it a spur-of-the-moment decision, diverting her path to the large staircase that led upstairs.

Being in her mother's room was always strange for Hazel. Her grandparents had kept it exactly the same as Laurel had left it and like any teenage girl, there were posters on the walls and piles of magazines everywhere. The makeup on the vanity had vanished, but there were still dust lines from where it had been. A few half-empty bottles of expensive perfume remained, as did the pictures stuck in the mirror. Hazel had never really taken notice to them before, but now she recognized the faces.

There was one of her mother and Remus Lupin all dressed up as if they were going to a ball of some sort. A posed picture of Sirius Black stared back at her, his unhappiness perfectly clear. Then there was a group picture that contained her mother, Lupin, Sirius, and a few faces that Hazel didn't recognize, but she could swear one of them was Harry Potter. Her mother was talking to a beautiful redheaded girl and they were all laughing.

Hazel traced the picture as her grandmother dove into the closet and surfaced with a gorgeously vintage tea-length chiffon dress. It was powder blue with a darker blue sash about the waist and looked as if it weighed nothing at all. Hazel gasped when she saw it.

"Gran, it's beautiful!"

"It's from the 1950's. Your mother loved it, too. I think it'd be just perfect on you!" she said, laying the dress and a pair of shoes to match on the bed and exiting the room for Hazel to change in peace.

The dress fit like a glove, but the shoes did not. Laurel's feet were two sizes bigger than Hazel's, so she decided to stay in her black converse low-tops. She crossed to the vanity and found some pearl earrings and a necklace to wear before her grandmother set about her with makeup and a hairstylist she kept on retainer.

"Gran, why all the fuss?" Hazel asked as she dashed off a quick note to her dad to tell him not to expect her home until late. Her hair was curled and styled in a simple half-up-half-down style with curls hanging loose about her shoulders. She quite liked it.

"We just thought we'd show off our granddaughter a bit. And it's Friday, we always do a formal dinner on Fridays, even if it's just your grandfather and me. You know that." Hazel knew she wasn't lying about the last bit, but was still confused as to why they wanted to show her off. Did they want her to enchant the enchanting Felix in order to help this winery idea of her grandfather's along?

Hazel suddenly felt sick. She was being used to further her grandparents' agendas. Just like the little heiress she was but never thought herself to be. She looked at herself in her mother's mirror and wondered if they had done the same thing to her. That would explain why Laurel ran away with Daniel and dodged the life her parents wanted for her.

Hazel sighed and rose from her seat. All she could do for the moment was go downstairs and try to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach.

* * *

 **If you go to Google Images and type in 'Gaspard Ulliel' you'll see my inspiration for Felix. *swoon!***

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	16. The Twins in York

**Chapter 16!**

 **Some of you expressed some concern about this whole Felix situation and I will only tell you that things get _dramatic_ in the next few chapters! The stakes are high, and so am I! Just kidding...I much prefer alcohol. Insane ramblings aside, please keep reviewing! I want to know what you all think of the sexy Frenchman!**

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 **Here it is, enjoy!**

* * *

The dinner itself lasted a good three hours with course after course of delicious food and free-flowing champagne, compliments of Ambassador Lemaire. After dinner, as a surprise for their guests, the Nithercott's had arranged for a trio to come and play a small concert for them all, which ended up with the entire entourage dancing together. Hazel and Felix flirted heavily during the dinner and danced together quite a few times, and much to Hazel's chagrin she couldn't find anything objectionable about him.

"I think your grandmother is hoping for us to get together." He whispered into her ear during one of the slower dances.

"I dare say you are correct." Hazel ventured, whispering back at him. She could smell his aftershave on the skin of his cheek.

"Would that be something you wish to pursue?" he asked, making the hair on the back of her neck stand on end in the best possible way.

"I don't know. I just met you." She answered truthfully. Felix was certainly likeable enough, but since they had met a mere twelve hours ago Hazel wasn't about to make a call either way.

"That is fair." His blue eyes sparkled in the light of the gas lamps that still lit her grandparents' home and it was all Hazel could do to keep from kissing him.

The dancing ended and Hazel Floo'd herself home. The clock on the wall above the mantle told her it was nearly one in the morning. Exhaustedly, she slunk down the hall and collapsed onto her bed, falling asleep before her head hit the pillow.

In her dreams that night Felix played the part of the handsome prince, but the Man in Black still managed to steal her away.

* * *

Hazel awoke after hearing a loud 'CRASH' come from the living room, followed by muffled cursing.

"Hazel! We're here!" a familiar voice shouted.

"Missy Hazel!" another voice sang. Hazel got out of her bed and opened her bedroom door, glaring at the Weasley twins as Fred extracted his head from the bathroom and George rose from where he had been inspecting under the rug.

"Oh Haze, you didn't need to get all dressed up for us!" George joked, noting the dress that she was still in.

"What are you two doing here?" she asked, both excited and annoyed at their unannounced visit.

"You said stop by any time." Fred shrugged, taking in the sight of Hazel in a dress. Her hair was messy and her makeup smudged, but she still looked rather pretty.

"I meant send an owl and we can arrange for you to come visit, not just show up any old time!" she said through gritted teeth. She did not do well with being woken up rudely. Or woken up at all, really.

"Oh! Well, if you'd just explained it sooner – "

"We would've done this properly."

"However,"

"Since we're here now…"

"We might as well stay." They finished together. Hazel groaned loudly as she pushed her way past them and made her way to the kitchen.

"Look, I'm really happy to see you but I don't feel like showing you round York today. Sorry for the wasted trip." She said, filling the coffee maker with coffee grounds.

"It's not wasted, we got to see you in that dress." Fred offered, sitting himself down at the small kitchen table. George sat across from him.

"Why are you all dressed up at…ten forty eight in the morning?" George asked, referencing the clock on the wall.

"I was at my grandparents' house last night for a formal dinner. It went rather late and I didn't feel like changing when I got home." She explained as the coffee maker started chugging away.

"A _formal dinner_?" Fred asked, as if he had never heard those two words strung together before.

"Yes. They wanted to show me off to their guests," Hazel said in a mock-haughty tone. "Or one in particular, anyway." She added, grabbing a mug out of the cupboard. "Fancy a coffee?" she asked over her shoulder to the boys. Fred declined, but George accepted.

"What do you mean one in particular?" George asked as Hazel set the hot coffee in front of him.

"Promise you won't laugh?" she asked, leaning against the counter and sipping her coffee.

"We swear." They said in unison.

"My grandparents have the French Ambassador and his entourage staying with them for a while. My granddad's got some kind of business deal he wants help with in France, so I think – no, I know - that they're throwing me at the Ambassador's nephew."

"Like you're a piece of meat?" Fred asked incredulously. He folded his hands together and clenched them tightly to stop them from forming fists.

"Yeah. For how progressive my grandparents can be, they are rather backwards. I mean, what is this, the 1800's?" she asked rhetorically.

"Well, pureblood families were brokering marriages until the times of You-Know-Who. Then, of course, most of them bit the dust." George sipped his coffee.

"Is that how your parents met, then?" Hazel asked.

"No, no. They met the old fashioned way." Fred said, looking at his brother and smirking.

"Love potion brewed by mum."

"Really?" Hazel said, not remembering whom she was talking to.

"No. They met at school. That's how damn near everyone meets." George explained.

"Seems that way." She said ponderously as the room settled into silence as she finished her coffee.

"So…what, _oh what_ , are we going to do today?" Fred asked no one in particular, leaning back in his chair.

"I don't feel much like going out. I do want to get out of this dress though…" She stroked the fabric of the dress pensively, thinking of when to get it back to the Manor.

"I like the sound of that." Fred said, a wolfish grin spreading across his face. Hazel scoffed and rolled her eyes as she walked out of the kitchen and back to her room, closing and locking the door. Just in case.

"Oi, mate, take it easy." George said quietly to his brother, leaning across the table.

"I know but…the thought of her and some prissy French bloke…after everything that happened this year…" His hands clenched into fists for a moment and his voice was tight.

"Maybe she hasn't opened the book yet?" George offered, trying to soothe his brother's anxiety.

"Yeah, maybe." Fred's voice softened and he relaxed a bit.

"Erm…guys? Can one of you come here?" Hazel's voice called from down the hall. George looked at his brother.

"That's your cue." He said as Fred stood from the small table and traversed the hallway. He knocked lightly on her door and heard the lock click before she opened it, one arm bent behind her, holding the dress's top closed.

"How may I serve you, milady?" He asked, the same wolfish grin on his face. Hazel groaned, but let him into her room and shut the door again.

"The zipper is stuck." She said exasperatedly, looking up at him with wide, annoyed eyes.

"The zipper?"

"Yeah, the thing that holds the dress together at the back." She said dryly, "It's like, caught on the fabric or something. I would try to get it down myself, but my arms aren't that bendy." She described, turning around and pulling her hair over one shoulder, exposing her slender neck. Fred gulped at the sight of her creamy bare skin peeking out from underneath the blue chiffon. She wasn't wearing a bra, at least not as far as Fred could tell.

He cleared his throat and gently put his hands on her bare shoulders. His touch gave her goosebumps and sent a shiver down her spine as he leaned forward to whisper in her ear.

"Let me get that for you." He whispered, his fingers floating down to the zipper. He pulled it up and loosened the fabric from under the pull-tab before triumphantly unzipping the dress all the way. The simple, easy action nearly drove her wild. She held the dress up as she turned around.

"Thanks, Fred." She said breathlessly.

"Anytime, Missy Hazel." He acknowledged, moving toward her door. Still holding the dress, she shuffled in front of him, blocking the door with her body. He looked down at her inquiringly.

"I meant thanks for this and…the other thing." She muttered self-consciously.

"What other thing?" he queried.

"Thanks for returning my book. And the daisy…it was really sweet of you. I mean, it's not that sweet that you stole it in the first place, but the returning bit was really…"

"Sweet?" he asked, interrupting her rambling.

"Yeah."

"As I said, anytime." He said, smirking as he gently pushed her aside and left the room. Once he shut the door, he leaned back against it and let out a long breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

On the other side of the door, Hazel did the same.

* * *

The three of them settled on the couch in the small living room and pointed themselves toward the small television in the corner, on which Hazel played her current film obsession, _Breakfast at Tiffany's._ After the initial shock and awe about the elves that lived in the telly, Fred and George settled on the couch with Hazel and watched as George Peppard fell in love with Audrey Hepburn.

As "Moon River" played over the end credits, Hazel let out a long, dreamy sigh. George tiled his head back and began fake snoring very loudly. Hazel lunged over his brother and smacked him on the chest.

"Stuff it, George! It's wonderful!" she said.

"Wonderfully boring, you mean!"

"That is _not_ what I mean!" she said, moving to poke him in the ribs. He deftly avoided it, leaping off the couch. Hazel tried to follow him, but Fred had grabbed her about the waist and held her in his lap, tickling her ribs. She yelled for him to stop while he yelled at George, "Run, man, _run_!"

They were interrupted by the sound of the front door slamming. Hazel looked up from her supine position halfway under Fred to see her father, standing next to the door.

"Hi daddy!" she said, pushing Fred off of her and bouncing over to him, "This is Fred and that's George. They're friends of mine from school."

"Were you expecting them?" Daniel asked.

"No, they just sort of showed up. Floo Network, you know. They've been here all morning."

Daniel looked flabbergasted. Hazel had never had a boy in the apartment, let alone _two_. He remained as calm as possible as the identical twins approached him and presented their hands for him to shake.

"Nice to meet you." George said.

"Very nice to meet you, sir." Fred echoed. Hazel smirked at his attempt to make a good impression with her father, but quickly banished the thought.

"Pleasure's mine, I'm sure." Daniel said a bit dazedly before shaking his head. "I just popped up for some lunch, did you lot want anything?"

"I was going to make mac and cheese." Hazel shrugged, but Daniel held up his hands to stop her.

"No, no, you've got guests. I'll make it." He offered, heading into the kitchen.

Her dad made mac and cheese and they all gathered around the small kitchen table to eat. Hazel kept flicking her eyes between her father, stoically eating his meal, and the twins, who seemed to be having a telepathic conversation. The only sound was forks squishing the noodles and chewing. She didn't like the silence, but luckily Fred cleared his throat.

"So, Mr. Herrod, you own the shop downstairs?" he ventured.

"Yeah, I own this entire building." Daniel said evenly, keeping his eyes on the bowl of orange noodles.

"But you run the business downstairs, correct?" Fred queried.

"I do, yes. Why do you ask?"

"You see, sir, Georgie and I here are thinking of opening our own shop some day," Fred explained, gesturing to George. This peaked Daniel's interest and he looked up, setting down his bowl.

"What kind of shop?"

"A joke shop, sir." Fred said, his eyes almost sparkling with hope like a child who was promised a trip to Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour after a visit to the healers at St. Mungo's.

"We'd sell all sorts of prank objects and trick candies and the like." George elaborated, a wide smile crossing his face.

"Yeah, we've even got some prototypes made up already."

"Really?" Daniel was impressed by their industriousness. "Have any with you? Might I see some?"

Hazel half-smiled to herself and watched her father bond with the boys as they showed him some of their trick wands and Ton-Tongue Toffees. They even had a small notebook each full of plans for more candies and products, including the fireworks they had demonstrated on New Year's Eve.

"Well, boys, I think this is just brilliant. You've really got something here." Daniel said, unable to contain his enthusiasm. He had been somewhat of a prankster in his youth but never thought about building a career around mischief. He had tried working in an office for a bit, but that hadn't worked either, so he chose to open his own business and work for himself. These two redheaded twins seemed more suited for entrepreneurial pursuits than anyone he had ever met, including himself.

"Thanks, Mr. Herrod." They said in unison.

"In fact, hold on a moment." He said, rising from the table and striding into his bedroom. He returned with a fifty quid note in his hand and passed it to them.

"Mr. Herrod, please - !" Fred said, only vaguely recognizing the Muggle currency.

"We can't accept this!" George protested, a blush rising in his cheeks.

"Nonesense. Call it an investment. Hazel can show you where to transfer that to your people's money, right Haze?" Daniel urged, giving his daughter a look.

"Yeah, I'll take them to the Undercroft this afternoon." She volunteered, gathering the lunch dishes and depositing them noisily in the kitchen sink.

"Now if you will all excuse me, I've got me own business to run." Daniel stated proudly, disappearing from the flat. Hazel could hear his footsteps descend the stairs and the outside door creak open and closed.

"So that's my dad." She smirked, leaning against the sink as the Weasleys stared at her, absolutely dumbfounded. They looked rather cute when caught completely off-guard, Hazel thought to herself.

"You should close your mouths. That's only about ten galleons." She explained.

"Still, it's too generous. We _just_ met the man for Merlin's sake!" George said, trying to hand the bill back to Hazel. She pulled her hands up and refused to take it.

"The man knows greatness when he sees it. Let's go, we should get that exchanged before the Undercroft closes." She affirmed her father's position and headed out onto the landing at the top of the stairs, putting on her shoes.

She led the still-mystified boys to York Minster. Hazel stopped by the front desk to say hello to Cindy and let her know they were just going to the Undercroft.

"My, my, Hazel, three handsome gentlemen in two days' time?" the Squib asked suggestively.

"It's not like that, Fred and George here are some school mates of mine." Hazel explained quickly, hoping the twins hadn't heard. She didn't think they had, because they were too busy gawking at the stained glass windows and tall columns.

"And the boy from yesterday?" Cindy pressed.

"He's a…friend as well." Hazel muttered, not exactly sure what to call Felix. Her friend? Her acquaintance? Or, as her grandparents would have put it, her intended? Not wishing to discuss the issue further, Hazel bid Cindy farewell and closed the ten-foot distance back to where the boys were pointing out funny-looking marble cherubs toward the ceiling.

"Follow me." She muttered, shoving her hands into the pockets of her shorts.

"Three handsome gentlemen in two days, eh Hazel?" Fred asked.

"Oh for fuck's sake, you heard that?" Hazel sighed.

"Shh! I don't think you should swear in a church!" George chastised her.

"If you must know, this is not a church, it's a Minster, there's a difference. And I brought Felix here yesterday. He wanted to see the view from the tower."

"Felix is…?" Fred asked for clarification.

"The French bloke my grandparents are trying to set me up with." Hazel expounded exasperatedly, walking as fast as she dared. Once in the Undercroft, Hazel didn't pause to admire the many artifacts they had on display, but headed straight for the door marked, 'Danger! Do Not Enter!' and knocked rapidly three times, rested a beat, then kicked the door thrice. Checking over her shoulder to make sure no one was watching, she pushed the door open and ushered the boys through.

The Undercroft resembled Diagon Alley, if someone took a shrink ray to it and cut the numerous storefronts down to four. A marble-columned façade directly opposite the entrance no more than eight feet high led to the Gringott's outpost, which was little more than a desk and a door. The three teens entered and stood in front of the desk in much closer proximity than Hazel would've wished at the moment. The goblin behind the desk, whose name was Higby, looked up at them lazily.

"May I help you?" he asked, irritation practically dripping from his words.

"Yes, my friends have some Muggle money to exchange." Hazel explained tersely, wanting to get out of the stuffy office as soon as she could.

"Well then why don't your friends come forward?" Higby snapped. It was almost closing time and he was anxious to get home.

The teens shuffled around each other as best they could, which ended up with George taking an elbow to the gut and Hazel's toes getting stepped on. Fred made it through the transition relatively unscathed, and presented the bill to the cranky goblin.

Higby appraised the note and sniffed indignantly, quickly extracting ten golden galleons from his drawer and inserting the Muggle currency, where it was magically transported to Gringotts in London. He handed one of the redheaded boys a receipt and the galleons and told them, "Now kindly vacate my office!"

They did so, bursting out the door and back into the small square. Off to their left Hazel could see that Heckleson's Wizarding Supply had already closed up shop for the day. MacNulty's Pub however, looked as though it had just opened. A few witches were already there, laughing uproariously at something the barman said. The Ollivander's, which was almost always dark, remained that way. Hazel could see a small amount of dust gathering on the chalkboard sign out front that read, _"Consultations by appointment only! Please owl our Diagon Alley location for available times. Have a wand-erful day!"_

"A _wand-erful_ day? C'mon, Ollie, that's just pathetic." Fred said as he caught sight of the sign. The trio stood in the middle of the square purposelessly.

"He probably has more to do with his life than think of wand-related puns." Hazel reasoned.

"I don't think so. I mean, he's only selling wands during the summer months, and only to new students. If he makes a sale in the off-season, it's probably because someone broke theirs." George pondered aloud.

"So?" Hazel asked, thinking she would enjoy a butterbeer about now.

"So, what's he doing with the extra nine months a year he isn't making sales?"

"Obviously not thinking of wand-related puns. You two fancy a drink?" she asked, gently guiding them toward the pub. They avoided her push and strode on long legs toward the sign. Fred used the hem of his shirt to erase the last sentence as George looked around for some chalk.

"What're you two doing?" Hazel complained, knowing full well what they had in mind.

"Found some!" George said, picking up a nub of chalk no more than two centimeters long off of the ground nearby.

"Alright, when you two are done dicking around, I'll be in the pub." Hazel said boredly, heading to MacNulty's. The twins waved her on as they put their heads together conspiratorially, whispering ideas to each other.

"I've got one!" Fred said, snatching the chalk from his brother and scribbling on the board. When he stepped away George could see what it read.

 _'Is that a wand in your pocket, or are you just happy to see us?'_

"That's piss poor. Let me give it a go." George said, erasing his brother's chicken scratch and writing his own.

 _'Let us handle your wand! We'll be gentle!'_

"You're right. That's much better. Want to go get that butterbeer now?" Fred asked. George nodded and they headed over to the small pub and found Hazel sitting at the bar, chatting with the balding barman. She waved them over.

"Two more if you would, Jack." She said, pointing to her own butterbeer.

"These blokes friends of yours, Hazel?" Jack asked in a gravelly voice, staring at the twins through narrowed eyes. Hazel had known Jack for many years, even before she started at Hogwarts, because of her grandfather's business. Jack always had a stock of Nithercott's on hand and had been one of her grandfather's mates at school.

"Yes, Jack, this is Fred and George Weasley. Boys, this is Jack MacNulty." She introduced and the men exchanged glances as Jack slid their butterbeers down the bar at them.

"What do we owe you, mate?" George asked, reaching in his pocket for a galleon.

"Your money's no good here. Any friends of Hazel's are friends of mine." Jack said, warming to them slightly as people couldn't help but doing around Fred and George.

"Cheers," Fred said, taking a generous swig of the butterbeer, but choking when he realized that wasn't all of what was in his glass. It was delicious, but unexpectedly alcoholic, "What is this?"

"One of Jack's creations. He calls it a Tongue-Loosener. Three-quarters butterbeer, one-quarter firewhiskey." Hazel said, a wicked smile forming on her lips.

"Bloody delicious is what it is!" George said after he finished a rather long gulp.

"Thought you'd think so." Hazel smirked into her glass as she took another sip, feeling the warmness of the firewhiskey travel down to her stomach. She couldn't wait to feel the effect when she stood up.

They each had one more of Jack's signature drinks and indeed, their tongues felt looser. It had obliterated whatever filter Hazel had, as demonstrated by her comment to one of the cackling harpies at the far end of the bar that had nearly caused a fight until Jack intervened and kicked the three teenage rabble-rousers out of his pub.

"Okay, what in the name of Merlin's left gonad is going on with you and this Frenchman?" Fred asked the question he'd been dying to ask since he'd found out about Felix. They were out of the Minster and walking around the small, winding streets to help burn off some of the drink.

"Absolutely nothing. For the moment." Hazel winked obnoxiously.

"What's that mean?" George queried, distractedly looking into a shop window at a rather busty mannequin.

"It means that I just met him yesterday. I'm not making up my mind either way just yet."

"So you're going to let your grandparents manipulate you into a relationship?" Fred asked.

"No! I'm much to clever for that." She assured with absolute confidence.

"Oh you are?"

"Yes."

"How many times have you thought about him today?" George asked jokingly, only meaning to lighten the mood.

"A few, I guess. He is drop-dead gorgeous." Hazel joked back.

Neither of them noticed Fred's face darken and a surly mood overtake him. Had he not made his intentions clear? Getting a daisy to grow out of a book required intense concentration on his part, and he'd spent the better part of a week figuring out the right spells. He had underlined the passage that contained the words he himself couldn't bring himself to say. It was the only passage he'd underlined (until he had bought his own copy in Hogsmeade, that is), he had only assumed it would've stood out. This pursuit of Hazel was getting to be too frustrating.

 _One more shot, mate, give it one more shot. If that doesn't work, let the Frenchman have her._ He thought to himself as she and George made ribald jokes about the French.

"Well Georgie, you think mum's cooled off enough for it to be safe to go home?" he asked, interrupting whatever George was saying about the French and their dandy-like tendencies.

"Uh, yeah, probably."

"What?" Hazel demanded, "You only came here because your mum was mad at you?"

"Can't get anything past this one, can we, Fred?" George clapped her on the back and she stumbled forward a bit, laughing.

"I don't think we can, George. We really should head home, though, it's nearly supper." He said, looking at the sun, which was sagging in the sky like a low-hanging fruit.

After George and Hazel agreed, they made their way back to Hazel's flat, promised to stop by (most likely unannounced) again, and stepped into the fireplace.

"Ready, Fred?"

"Ready, George."

"The Burrow!" they shouted together, disappearing in a puff of green flames and smoke.

* * *

 **Fred and George and Hazel's adventures in York are _not_ over! Tell me what you think! Reviews = Motivation = Faster Updates!**


	17. The Willow Effect

**Chapter 17 is here! Fun fact: This is one of the longest chapters I've ever written (it cleared 5,000 words!) and I think you guys are going to go batshit cray for it! I'm really proud of this chapter, guys.**

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* * *

A few weeks later, amid semi-dates with Felix and a cancelled visit from Veronica, came the dreaded day. Daniel had insisted that Julia come over for dinner so Hazel could meet her. He had been slaving away in the kitchen all day, leaving Hazel to supervise the store. She wasn't all by herself, though, as Daniel had hired his college mate Stuart and his wife Lisa to help out during the school year.

Hazel nervously tapped a pen against the counter, her head resting on her chin and her eyes scanning the street in front of the store for women who could possibly be Julia.

"Don't worry, pet, Julia is just lovely!" Lisa assured her for the hundredth time that day.

At six o'clock Stuart and Lisa kicked Hazel out of the shop and she headed upstairs. She hadn't seen a woman enter the door, but she could've snuck up while Hazel was busy. Since her father had left the door open, she could hear The Beatle's White Album playing softly and the tinkling of a woman's laughter.

Hazel's stomach lurched, but she forced herself up the rest of the staircase and knocked the open door before entering. As she cautiously peeked around the corner she caught a sight of an absolutely gorgeous woman draped across the couch, a glass of white wine held delicately in her long fingers. Her limbs were long and willowy and her hair was a deep shade of reddish brown. She was facing the kitchen and conversing with Daniel, but turned her head when Hazel entered.

Her heart-shaped face lit up in a smile when she caught sight of Hazel, her hazel-green eyes sparkling with excitement and a bit too much wine.

"Daniel, she's here!" she called into the kitchen, lifting herself gracefully off of the couch. Her overly large crew neck sweatshirt fluttered behind her as she floated over to Hazel, enveloping her in her long, skinny arms.

"Erm…hello." Hazel said as her father entered the room wearing an apron and oven mitts.

"Hazel, I'd like you to meet Julia. Julia, this is my daughter, Hazel." He introduced.

"So good to finally meet you!" Julia enthused, "Your dad has told me so much about you!"

"Not too much, I hope." Hazel laughed nervously, thinking about her Hogwarts trunk that was tucked in her closet. She and her father had agreed that they wouldn't tell her about Hogwarts for now.

"Come, sit with me on the couch! I want to know all about you!" Julia ushered Hazel over to the couch and sat her down, "You go to boarding school, right? How exciting is that?"

"Yeah, it's pretty nice. My dad doesn't like it, though." She half-joked. Her dad poured her a glass of Coke and handed it to her over the back of the couch.

"I like it just fine. You're getting a great education and I've got a spare bedroom for the better part of the year." He winked, going back into the kitchen.

"It's the same school your mother went to, right?" Julia asked. Hazel could feel the walls coming up, as she did not want to be the focus of attention.

"Yep, the very same." Hazel said shortly, taking a sip of her Coke to diffuse the tension. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her dad in the doorway to the kitchen making a 'go on' motion with his hands. She cleared her throat and continued, "So, Julia, what do you do?"

"I'm a doctoral candidate at the University. History of Art, terribly boring." Julia downplayed. For the sake of conversation, Hazel decided to bring up her own interest in art.

"Not boring at all! I was actually just talking with a friend about the Impressionist and Post-Impressionist periods."

"My Master's thesis was on the role of women in those periods." Julia offered, taking another sip of wine.

"No way! What was your focus?"

"The way the Impressionists embraced women as artists, but during the Belle-Epoque period they were sort of phased out."

"Wow, I'd love to read it!" Hazel said unironically. In spite of herself, Hazel was beginning to like the auburn-haired siren that sat before her. She was obviously intelligent and seemed to have a good (if a bit over-enthusiastic) head on her shoulders.

As Julia opened her mouth to respond, "Happiness is a Warm Gun" started playing. Julia dashed over to the stereo and turned it up, declaring, "I love this song!"

 _Alright, maybe she's not all bad._ Hazel thought to herself.

Daniel called them into the kitchen once the enchiladas were finished and the three of them ate dinner and Hazel continued to get to know Julia. She was from Surrey, got her undergrad at Birmingham, her Masters at the Sorbonne, and her current course of study led her to York, as she was writing her doctoral thesis on the famous stained glass in the Minster. She loved almost all of the same bands that Hazel did, with a tendency toward more pop stars than Hazel and her dad. Her favorite movie was _Sabrina_ starring Audrey Hepburn, William Holden, and Humphrey Bogart, which she promised to bring over so Hazel could watch. They both raved over _Breakfast at Tiffany's_ and _Star Wars_ and by the end of the night Hazel had forgiven her father for falling in love with her.

"Well, I am full to burst. Dinner was great, dad." Hazel said, leaning back in her chair and rubbing her stomach. Dessert had been Daniel's homemade strawberry cheesecake, which he only made on very special occasions.

"Thank you Hazel." He said humbly as he stroked Julia's hand on top of the table.

"Yes, Daniel, everything was delicious." Julia raved, looking at him with starry eyes and Hazel knew she was in love. He lifted her hand and gave it a delicate kiss, like the handsome prince always did with his fair princess and Hazel saw in his eyes that he truly, madly, deeply loved this woman. So she gathered up the dessert dishes and whisked them away to the sink.

"I'm off to bed," she declared, "Don't worry about the dishes, I'll take care of them tomorrow. Julia, it was absolutely lovely to meet you. We must have you over again."

"It was lovely meeting you too, Hazel. You will most definitely see more of me." Hazel waved to her and walked into her room, putting her headphones on and letting the sounds of Nirvana block out the sounds of her dad and Julia flirting in the kitchen.

* * *

A few mornings later, Hazel awoke to a small, hyperactive owl hooting frantically as Leia tried to catch him out of thin air. She scolded her cat and kicked her out of the room to get the owl to settle down. Once he did, she took the letter off of his leg and opened it hastily, thinking it was from Veronica. She had written her best friend about the Felix situation and was anxiously awaiting her reply.

 _'Dear Hazel,_

 _It's me, Bill Weasley, safely arrived at the Burrow as of late last night. It will take me some time to get over the time difference, but we can meet whenever is convenient for you. My brothers have told me all about their adventures with you in York and I must say, I am intrigued. When we do meet, we should go to that MacNulty's pub, the Tongue-Loosner sounds exquisite! So really, anytime you would like to meet would most likely work for me._

 _Happily,_

 _Bill Weasley_

 _P.S. Fred won't stop bugging me to tell you he says hi and will drop by sometime this week._

 _P.P.S. Sorry about the bird, I had to borrow Ron's.'_

Hazel had almost completely forgotten about her meeting with Bill to discuss her future as a Curse-Breaker. Leaping out of bed, she sat down on her desk and wrote Bill a quick response saying that she would gladly meet him a week later on the fourth of August in front of York Minster. The small owl was pecking her hand impatiently as she attached her response and practically threw him out her window. She then crossed into the bathroom and shoved her toothbrush in her mouth.

Her dad had taken Julia for a romantic weekend in Inverness, so Hazel had the flat to herself. Steve and Lisa were running the store, so she basically had a free weekend. She couldn't decide on what to do, but she suspected that Felix would be involved somehow.

Their last meeting was a picnic on the Manor grounds, where Felix had dazzled her with champagne and reading selections from Baudelaire's _Fleurs du Mal_. After a full afternoon of sipping the fruity, fizzy drink and hearing Felix read romantic French poetry, she had damn near kissed him as they lay together under the stars.

She hadn't though, because she had a painful, aching doubt that had nestled deep inside her. Was Felix actually interested in her, or was it just an act for her grandparents and his uncle? And where did Fred factor into all of this? When she had thanked him for the surprises in the book, all he had said was, "Anytime." He was maddeningly aloof, and she was falling hard and fast for Felix.

She finished brushing her teeth and heard another pair of wings rustling in her bedroom. She recognized the bushy brown owl as Euripides, Veronica's owl. He hooted stiffly and stuck out his leg. Hazel took the letter.

 _'Hazel,_

 _Would you like some cheese to go with that wine? Only joking, of course. Your grandparents are purebloods, yes? I'm sure they're not like Malfoy pureblood, but old habits die hard, you know? If your mother humiliated them by eloping (with a Muggle, no less), it stands to reason that they'd want to make a more shall we say advantageous match for their granddaughter. Probably before she got the chance to humiliate them. Not that you would, of course, but you know what I mean._

 _As far as this French bloke goes, why not live in the moment a little? Your impulsive tendencies last summer caused you to over correct I think, and you've become much too cautious for a sixteen year old. If you like him and he likes you, why not see where it'll go? Knowing you, you're probably worried about his motivations and if that's the case I say; JUST BLOODY ASK HIM._

 _And if Fred really, truly fancied you he would dispense with the jackassery and make his true feelings known. Period._

 _Now go be impulsive with a Frenchman!_

 _Veronica'_

Hazel giggled at her friend's words and took them to heart. Veronica may be a gossip, but when it came to giving advice Hazel never doubted her sincerity. She was incredibly loyal and straightforward to her friends; Hazel sometimes wondered why she wasn't in Hufflepuff.

She put the letter down and sent the owl away without writing a response. She did, however, send one to Felix via apparating owl.

 _'Dear Felix,_

 _Before whatever this is goes any further, I need to know one thing; Are you wooing me because you actually fancy me or because your uncle wants you to? Or are you even wooing me at all? Perhaps I'm misreading this entire thing. I tend to do that. If so, please disregard this letter. If not, keep reading._

 _I do want you to know that I fancy you, and really wanted to kiss you the other day. I realize that it would be much better to tell you this in person, but there you have it. I also realize that you are returning to France at the end of the summer, which is why I think that, if you fancy me in return there is no reason to waste any more time. You are intoxicating, Felix, and I really enjoy spending time with you. Please consider a summer fling with a silly English girl. It would make her year._

 _Hazel'_

After convincing herself to send the confession, she went into the bathroom and turned on the shower, hoping the hot water would help her find some answers.

As she wrapped herself in a fluffy towel and opened the door she heard the familiar sounds of the fireplace spitting out a person. She peeked around the corner and cursed. Fred Weasley was rising off the floor, dusting himself off and looking around the apartment. He opened his mouth to call for her, but caught sight of her head poking around the corner.

"Ah, there you are, why's your hair all wet?" he asked and she fully emerged from the hall to greet him.

"I just got out of the shower." She explained, gesturing to the towel that encased her naked body. Fred's face paled a bit and he gulped.

"Oh…" His mouth was dry.

"Yeah. I'll just be a minute." She said, retreating to the bathroom and closing the door. She emerged fifteen minutes later as Fred sat on the couch, trying to occupy his mind with thoughts about Quidditch, or homework, or Aunt Muriel's saggy neck flaps instead of Hazel's naked body that he had almost seen.

It worked and he was able to stand without embarrassment when she returned, dressed in a t-shirt with the picture of four shaggy-haired Muggles crossing a street on it and a pair of shorts that neatly hugged her hips. She plopped onto the couch next to him, folding her long legs next to her and leaning on the arm of the couch. Her hair looked a bit damp and hung down in wavy strands that she casually pushed away as she looked at him with her crystalline blue eyes.

"So what'd you do this time?" she demanded gently. He was dressed in the same Zonko's t-shirt he'd worn on the Hogwarts Express almost a year prior and a pair of khaki shorts. Hazel flicked her eyes over his lengthy, shapely calves and chewed on the inside of her lip.

"Mum decided that the punishment should be served separately, as she was sick of dealing with us together."

"Naturally." Hazel agreed. The fact that Molly Weasley hadn't strangled the twins yet was a testament to her saint-like patience.

"So I am banished from the house for twenty-four hours while George has been relegated to the attic with the family ghoul."

"Poor George."

"Poor _ghoul_."

"What did you do that was so bad?"

"I'll spare you the details, but an experiment of ours went wrong and most of Ginny's possessions went up in flames."

"What?! Poor Ginny!"

"Yeah, I've never seen mum actually explode before. I guess setting the house on fire really does the trick." He looked at her with a trademark devious wink and she smiled.

"So why did you come _here_?"

"Well, and this may come as a shock, but Ottery St. Catchpole is not a bustling metropolis full of culture and nightlife."

"And York _is_?" Hazel scoffed. Sure, York had been the Viking capital of Britain, but that was damn near nine hundred years ago.

"That and I figured we haven't had any time to ourselves in a while, so I decided to rectify that."

Hazel's cheeks turned a little pink before she remembered the VHS tape she had stumbled upon at the video store a few days prior. She had bought it for just such an occasion. Without saying a word she hopped off the couch and retrieved it from her room.

"You liked The Princess Bride, right?" she asked, holding the tape of the Rob Reiner film behind her back as she reentered the room and crossed to the television.

"Yeah, course I did."

"Then you'll love this." She said, inserting the tape into the player and turning on the TV.

Fred's jaw dropped as he realized what he was watching. His eyes filled with excitement and he looked over at her, maple eyes positively giddy.

"I didn't know they could make _movies_ from _books_!" he exclaimed. Hazel just laughed and shushed him, pointing back at the television.

Having seen the movie five times in theaters, Hazel was able to mouth along with some of its more famous lines, but otherwise remained silent and watched Fred's reactions. When the grandson asked, "Is this a kissing book?" he busted out laughing. His entire face lit up when Buttercup threw herself down the ravine to follow Westley. He was almost hysterical during the Miracle Max scene. And when Inigo finally got his revenge on Count Rugen, he leapt of the couch and threw his fists in the air.

"Yes! Take _that_ , you six-fingered bastard!" he shouted. Hazel giggled and grabbed his shirt, pulling him back down onto the couch. She couldn't help but feel a deep affection for him in that moment. Sharing a book one enjoyed with someone else created a bond that Hazel was familiar with, but this was a new sensation entirely. She could feel something warm and comforting bubbling in her chest as he gazed intently at the screen.

The credits began to roll and he leaned back, a stunned look settling on his features.

"Wow." He said simply, dazedly looking at the rug on the floor.

"I know." Hazel agreed, her entire body facing him and her arm bent against the back of the couch, her head resting against her fist.

"That was….that was bloody brilliant." He sighed, "Favorite movie ever."

Hazel scoffed, "And you've seen all of what, three movies?"

"Well, yeah but that _Star Wars_ one was brilliant too!" he said, turning toward her. On his and George's last visit she had shown them the first one and their minds had been substantially blown. She hadn't let on that there was not one, but two sequels.

"So this was the most perfect film you've ever seen?" she teased.

"Except for one thing." He said, holding up a single long finger.

"What?"

"Westley's whole speech about how much he loves Buttercup was gone. It was so well-written, and it's just not in the movie!" Fred enthused, "It would have been _so_ good!"

"Do you want to go out with me tonight?" she asked suddenly, not even sure the words had come out of her mouth.

"Out?" he asked, caught off-guard by her sudden question. It seemed as all of the air had been sucked out of the room and her question hung in the air unanswered.

"Yeah, I was thinking of going to this dance club up the street tonight. And since you need to stay away from your house for a full day you could…I don't know, sleep here?" she said, nervously scratching the back of her neck and trying to appear nonchalant.

Fred could hardly believe his ears. Hazel, the tantalizing object of his affections for the last several months, had not only asked him out but to _spend the night?_ Was she serious?

"Er…where would I sleep?" he ventured.

"Wherever you end up passing out." She smirked. He smiled as well.

"Yeah, alright. I think I can handle squiring you about for an evening."

"We're going to The Willow, Fred, it's not exactly a _squiring_ type of place."

* * *

There was a gigantic line outside The Willow that night, as was usual on a Saturday. The Willow was a York institution that only admitted students at the local University and regulars. By day, it was a Chinese restaurant. At night the tables and chairs were pushed toward the walls and the DJ set up in the far corner and it transformed into a dance club of ridiculous proportions. Because of the cheap booze and thudding last-five-years-of-top-40 music the place drew in drunken teenagers looking to get drunker. Hazel was lucky enough to know one of the bouncers, Steve, and Ewan tended bar there.

Hazel loved it.

"Hey Steve, how's your mum?" she asked as they got to the front of the line.

"She's great, who's your friend?" Steve said, giving her the large Willow stamp and motioning to Fred.

"This is Fred, he's a mate from school."

"Right, then, have fun! Ewan's at the bar!" he shouted up the stairs after her. She shot him a thumbs-up and led Fred into the crowded, loud congregation of sloshed teens.

Fred leaned over and shouted in her ear, "It's rather loud!"

"That's the point!" she shouted back, grabbing his hand and leading him over to the crowded bar. Ewan was indeed behind it, his dark blonde crew cut easily distinguishable in the dinginess of the club. He was also nearly a head taller than everyone else at the bar. She elbowed her way to the front and put her elbows on the bar, gazing up at Ewan. Since she was still underage, Ewan wasn't allowed to serve her but sometimes he would give her the "accidental" pours.

"Ah, the prodigal daughter returns!" he said as he caught sight of her, flipping a bottle of vodka upside down.

"Oh, hush Ewan! Got any over-pours yet?" she asked. Things between them hadn't really been settled, and given his predatory look at her he wasn't over it yet.

"Nah, but come back in a minute." He shouted, taking the order of the person down the bar further. Hazel turned back and looked at Fred, who was glaring at Ewan.

"That's Ewan?" he growled as the song came to an end and the next one queued up.

"Yeah." She saw his eyes scan Ewan and before he could respond she grabbed his arm, leading him to the dance floor. "Come On Eileen" was playing and Hazel, along with everyone else in the club, was singing along to the catchy tune while they hopped around in an unfortunate attempt at dancing. Fred caught on quick enough and bounced around next to Hazel, occasionally grabbing her hand and twirling her. The music was mesmerizing and Hazel got lost in the movements of his and her bodies, dancing through the next few songs with Fred's strong arms always within reach.

The dance floor was heating up rapidly, so Hazel went to try their luck at the bar. Ewan had set aside two tequila shots and two rum and cokes for her, which she carried over to the corner of the floor where she had left Fred, praying she didn't spill any.

 _This would be so much easier if I had my wand_ , she thought bitterly. She often had that thought during the summer break.

Fred took his drinks from her and nodded toward the restaurant area where there were sparse tables and chairs set up for those too drunk or exhausted to continue their party.

"Which would you like to do first?" she asked in the quieter section by the window overlooking Coney Street.

"Erm…I'm not quite sure what any of this is."

"This one," she held up the shot, "you just throw back. And this one you can sip like a butterbeer." She held up the rum and coke.

"On the count of three?" he suggested, lifting his shot. Hazel nodded, and as he raised it to his mouth she laced her arm through his, bringing them nearly face-to-face.

"Three." She said, throwing the shot of tequila down her throat. Fred did the same and Hazel laughed at the disgusted look on his face.

"UGH! Burns worse than firewhiskey!" he observed disgustedly, sticking his tongue out.

Hazel laughed, "Cheers." She raised the brown drink to her lips and took a sip. It was definitely more rum than coke, but she didn't mind. Fred used the other drink to wash the taste of agave out of his mouth.

They finished their drinks and went back to the dance floor, lasting another hour and three more shots apiece, before the floor started to tilt underneath Hazel.

She grabbed Fred's strong forearms for support, "We should probably go!" she shouted, her face flushed and eyes dancing with laughter.

The voyage down the stairs was more difficult than either of them anticipated. Hazel tripped over her own feet and Fred caught her, pulling her against him. His back crashed against the wall as she landed on his chest. Both of them were laughing wildly as time slowed down. Hazel's eyes drifted upward and locked onto his. Desire slithered through her veins and she grasped the back of his neck, pulling him closer. Their lips were about to meet when –

"Oi! You two're blockin' the stairs!" a voice interrupted them. Hazel pulled back embarrassedly and they continued down the stairs and out into the cool night air.

"That was…interesting." He said. Hazel reached for his hand and intertwined his fingers with hers, relishing in the contact.

"Yeah, it's a unique place." She commented distractedly.

"I meant what almost happened back there – "

"We've kissed before, Fred."

"Yeah, and the first time you threw up. The second time you pushed me away."

"Sorry 'bout that. After that whole Oliver thing I overcorrected, got too cautious. Then when I tried to throw caution to the wind you and Loretta were together…"

"What? When was this?"

"Right before the end of term, after O.W.L.s. That's when I found the book and I ran down to the lake and there you were…snogging Loretta."

"And you thought we were together?"

"Well yeah. I mean after your little bet about the Quidditch cup – "

"Who told you about that?" he demanded as they turned down Hazel's street.

"Veronica. Then I asked George about it later and he confirmed it. And I saw you two sneak up the stairs."

"Loretta and I are _not_ together. Nor were we ever."

"Brilliant. Then I don't have to be jealous anymore."

"Jealous?"

"Uh-huh." Hazel said, fiddling with her keys at the door leading to the stairs.

"You were jealous of Loretta?" he reiterated for clarity as they began clumsily climbing the stairs. He tried to ignore how the flowered skirt she was wearing swished elegantly against her shapely legs.

At the top of the stairs she turned to him and smirked, using one finger to gently push him against the door. She pressed the length of her body against him and once again put a hand at the back of his neck. The air around them crackled with electricity as she pushed forward and gently planted her lips on his for a brief moment.

As she pulled back he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her again, using his tongue to gently coax her mouth open. She tasted like alcohol, but Fred found himself wanting oh so much more. Hazel felt as if a volcano had exploded in her chest, its hot magma flowing freely in her veins. She wanted more, and threaded her fingers through his long red hair to pull him closer. His arms wrapped around her waist and pressed her chest against his.

She disentangled one hand from his hair and opened the door. He tripped backward into the living room but caught himself, somehow able to keep their lips connected as they moved toward the couch, Hazel stripping off her cardigan and tossing it toward her bedroom. She pulled him down onto the couch and he landed on top of her as the kisses evolved from sweet to ravenous. She loved feeling his weight on top of her and she ran her hands down his sides, coming to rest just above his hips.

It was all she could do not to unbuckle his belt and turn this snogging into full-on shagging, but she resisted. The word 'MISTAKE' flashed in big neon letters behind her eyes, and she was much too wary about their friendship to ruin it that quickly.

He tasted like the alcohol they had both consumed and his smell was intoxicating as she let it wash over her. Slowly, tentatively, she allowed one of her hands to slide underneath his t-shirt and feel the hard Quidditch-developed muscles and warm skin that lay beneath. She let out a low moan as her fingers drifted past his abs and obliques and up onto his back.

His hands, that had been ensnared in her whiskey-blonde curls slowly moved down to the spaghetti straps of her tank top, brushing them aside as if they hadn't existed at all. His mouth moved from hers and trailed feather light kisses along her collarbone, making her moan a little louder. The hand that wasn't exploring his back came up and rested on the nape of his neck, gently urging him to venture lower as she arched her back slightly. His maple eyes met hers and he smiled, wiggling her tank top off of her breasts so her bra was exposed. Before he could go further, she pulled him back up and kissed him hungrily.

Just as he was about to go back down to pay the lacy black bra some attention, the telephone rang. Hazel swore and checked the time; her dad promised to call at midnight to check up on her. It was 11:59, so she pushed Fred off of her and dashed over to the phone and picked up the receiver, ignoring Fred's "What the bloody hell?"

"Hello Daddy."

"Hey kid, how's it going?"

"Pretty boring. Just watching a movie."

"Yeah? Which one?"

"Princess Bride."

"How was your day?"

"Good. Went to Willow for a bit but it was pretty lame so I came home. How's Inverness?" She explained, really hoping her dad couldn't hear how drunk she still felt. Whether it was from the alcohol she'd consumed or the kissing she couldn't tell.

"Very nice. Inverness is great, Julia says hi."

"Hi back. I'm pretty tired, so I think I might just go to sleep."

"Yeah, us too. See you tomorrow night." Her dad said a bit too jovially.

"See you." She said before hanging up the phone and turning back toward Fred, who had a look of confusion on his face.

"It's a telephone. It lets you talk to people from a distance." She quickly explained, crossing the room and sitting next to him. "I am rather tired. Want to go to sleep?"

That was the exact opposite of what Fred wanted to do, but he agreed and held her hand as they made their way into her bedroom. They slept in their clothes, but spent the entire night wrapped in each other's arms.

* * *

 **I think that deserves a review, don't you?**


	18. A Fork in the Road

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* * *

Fred awoke the next morning with his head pounding and his limbs entangled with Hazel's. He extracted himself as best he could without waking her (luckily she was an exceedingly deep sleeper), and ventured into the kitchen. Being a child of Molly Weasley came with the knowledge of how to make a proper English breakfast, and he started doing just that. Figuring out the Muggle range was a bit tricky, and he almost singed his eyebrows off, and not for the first time.

He heard noises coming from the living room as he was finishing the fried eggs so he poked his head out. The person in the living room wasn't Hazel, though, but an incredibly handsome bloke about his age who was brushing the Floo soot off of his impeccably tailored trousers.

"Who the hell are you?" Fred demanded, brandishing his spatula like he would his wand.

"I am Felix, a friend of Hazel's. Is she here?" he asked in an unmistakably French accent. Fred's stomach dropped as he realized to whom he was speaking. If this guy turned his affections toward Hazel, Fred didn't stand a chance.

"So you're the frog her grandparents are throwing at her?" Fred clarified in the most insulting way he could muster.

"I am not sure what you mean. Hazel and I have been on a few dates if that is what you are saying." Felix shifted his weight onto one leg and shrugged aloofly. This bloke was a Greek god.

"Okay, why are you here? She's still asleep." Fred mimicked his action and crossed his lanky arms across his chest, spatula sticking up out of the crook of his elbow.

"I received her letter yesterday. I was coming to tell her that I feel the same way."

"The same way as what?"

"The same way that she does about me. Fancy, I think is the English term for it?"

"She fancies you?" Fred dropped his arms as his torso bottomed out. He clenched his fist around the spatula until his knuckles turned white, resisting the urge to punch the interloper in the face.

" _Oui."_

"And you fancy her?" He asked through gritted teeth. This was just his luck. One amazing night with Hazel that could've finally decided things between them one way or the other, and then something came along to muck it up.

" _Oui._ Might I go wake her up now?" Felix said, glancing toward the hallway. Fred moved in front of the entrance and blocked it with his body.

"No you may not! She's not feeling well! She was up all night, so I thought she deserved a bit of a lie-in." he lied quickly.

"Oh…" the Frenchman's face fell. Even in disappointment he was devastatingly sexy. "Will you tell her that I came by?"

"Yeah, I'll be sure to pass along the message." Fred spat bitterly as Felix nodded and Floo'd away.

He went back to the kitchen and finished breakfast in a blind rage, slamming pans and plates around and nearly breaking the toaster when he figured out how to shove the bread in.

All of the noise coming from the kitchen woke Hazel, whose head wasn't pounding as badly as she thought it would as she slipped out from beneath her sheets and toward the cacophony coming from the kitchen.

Fred stood at the hob with his back turned toward her, and she smelled sausages cooking. As quietly as she could, she crept over to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, placing a kiss on his shoulder blade. His body tensed under her touch and she felt it, letting go confusedly.

"What's wrong?" she asked, dropping her arms and standing next to him.

"Your boyfriend stopped by." He explained coldly, his eyes fixated on the sausages.

"What boyfriend?" she had no idea who he was talking about. Unless this was some strange, third-person joke that she didn't understand.

"Felix. He said he got your letter and he feels the same way."

"Feels the same way as what?"

"The same way as you described in your letter to him. He fancies you and wants to whisk you to off to Par-ee so you two can stroll around hand in hand and eat posh food and drink coffee at one of those stupid little cafes..." He slammed the spatula down and finally turned his eyes to her. They burned with angry fire, and Hazel was dropped in a pool of cold remembrance. Her heart sunk as she remembered the contents of the rash letter.

"Oh…" she said quietly, sinking into herself.

"Yeah, _oh_." He stared at her and she could feel his smoldering anger touch her face.

"Fred, you've got to understand! That was before – "

"Before we _kissed_? No, we kissed on New Years, _and_ on the train. Before you knew how I felt about you? I spend a week trying to grow a daisy out of a book for you and you're _still not sure_? How much clearer I can be, Hazel?" he shouted. His head was pounding harder than it was when he woke up and Felix's appearance had him riled.

"I…I don't know." She said weakly. "Fred, please. I just need a minute to think."

"Think about what?"

"How to proceed! I do fancy Felix, but I also fancy you and I'm just…confused."

"Well if it isn't bloody obvious who you should choose, then I don't know what I'm still doing here." He stalked out of the kitchen and into the living room. Hazel followed and grabbed a fistful of his shirt in a clumsy attempt to stop him. If he left now the previous night would have meant nothing, and Hazel knew that wasn't what she wanted.

"Fred, don't go!" she shouted, but it was too late.

"The Burrow!" Fred shouted, throwing the Floo powder at his feet.

Then he disappeared in a flash of green flame.

* * *

That afternoon Hazel emerged from her bedroom for yet another cup of tea to see an unfamiliar owl pecking at her breakfast leftovers. After Fred had left, Hazel ate a light meal and then had spent the rest of the day sulking in her room listening to Beatles records, with some of The Cure's darker songs interspersed between them.

The owl hooted and hopped over to her and disapparated after she took the letter off its leg. It had her name and address on it, and was sealed with a Hogwarts seal.

Her O.W.L. results, she realized as she opened it with trembling fingers.

Arithmancy – A

Ancient Runes – E

Care of Magical Creatures – A

Charms – O

Defense of the Dark Arts – O

Herbology – A

History of Magic – P

Muggle Studies - E

Potions – O

Transfiguration – O

Nine! She'd gotten _nine_ O.W.L.s! And in all of the subjects she needed to be a Curse-Breaker! Despite that morning's unpleasantness, Hazel felt like she was walking on air as she jumped around. She dashed into her bedroom and retrieved the Weezer album that Julia had gifted her and put it in the living room stereo, bopping along with it as it started playing.

Ten minutes later her dad and Julia walked through the door, quizzical looks on both of their faces until Hazel bounced over with her O.W.L. scores.

"Nine?! Bloody _nine_?!" Her dad said, his face brightening with excitement and pride. He dropped his suitcase (but not before hiding the parchment from Julia) and hugged her, spinning her around.

"This cause for a celebration!" Julia exclaimed, joining the hug once Daniel set his daughter down.

The trio ended up going for Chinese food, Hazel's favorite, and then going to see the new Disney animated film _The Lion King_ , which was basically Hamlet with singing jungle animals. Despite not being six years old, Hazel enjoyed it. She even had a passing thought to charm the images of the Gryffindor lion to sing the opening number every time a Slytherin walked past. Perhaps she could get Fred and George in on it…

Her heart sunk when she thought of Fred. She had hurt him. Badly. And she didn't know what she could do to make it right. Last night had been the most magic she'd ever felt outside of the wizarding world, and now it very unlikely it would ever happen again.

"Oi! Why do you look so glum Miss Nine O.W.L.s?" her dad asked quietly as they stopped in front of a gelato stand in Coppergate. His voice snapped her out of her reverie and she shook her head, replacing the smile that had disappeared.

"Just wondering what flavor to get is all." She brushed off his comment and selected vanilla and Italian cherry. As she ate her gelato, she chatted about Inverness with her dad and Julia. They'd had a lovely, and incredibly romantic, time on the loch.

While she talked, she thought of Fred and how he had made the decision of whom to date for her by storming out of her apartment. She could conceivably return his many favors and just show up at his home, ambush him, and tell him how she really felt.

That wouldn't have been fair. But not giving her a chance to explain was unfair as well. She pushed the thoughts away but for one realization.

Felix fancied her back, and not just because his uncle wanted him to. She couldn't help but feel excited at the prospect.

* * *

The next morning, armed with her O.W.L. scores and a light but flattering layer of makeup, Hazel stepped into her fireplace and Floo'd herself to her grandparents' house.

The house was quiet and still and Hazel feared that her quest was for naught as she made her way to the kitchen. Gingy was busy fussing over lunch, but paused and rubbed her hands on the filthy old scarf she wore as a dress as she greeted Hazel.

"Is Miss wanting anything to eat? Gingy can get you some tea -!"

"No, no, Gingy, I was just looking for my grandparents. Or…Felix, if he's around." She added bashfully.

"Miss's grandparents are in Edinburgh for the day, Miss. But Mister Felix is here, let Gingy go get him!" she said, disapparating before Hazel could object. She helped herself to a mug of tea and walked up the servant's stairs to the grand dining room.

Gingy returned shortly with a very sleepy-looking Felix in tow. He was only wearing pajama bottoms and Hazel nearly choked on her tea when she saw he was topless. His bare chest brought to mind Classical statues she'd seen in the British Museum in London. He looked as if Michelangelo had chiseled his body from a block of marble, with defined abdominals, prominent pectorals, and broad, muscular shoulders. All of this, combined with his long hair and stubble was almost too much for Hazel to handle.

Hazel shook her head slightly and cleared her throat, her mouth suddenly dry. "Good morning, Felix." She said politely, averting her eyes lest she be stuck blind by his beauty.

" _Bon matin_ , Hazel." He said, sitting in the chair next to her.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean for Gingy to wake you." She apologized as Gingy materialized with a mountain of breakfast dishes piled on her small arms.

"It is nothing. I needed to wake up anyway." He smiled, tearing into a scone.

Hazel cleared her throat again, "I heard you came to visit me yesterday." She prodded gently.

" _Oui_. Your friend was very rude to me."

"Yes well, I don't think he was expecting…you." She excused on behalf of Fred.

"I suppose not."

"He also told me that you…erm…you fancy me?" she ventured, looking into her mug.

"He told you that?"

"Yes he did. He was livid after you left."

"Oh?"

"Yes. We had a fight and he stormed off. I don't think he'll speak to me again so long as…" she stopped herself before she said what she wanted to say and looked up at the painted ceiling.

"So long as…?" Felix led, turning his navy eyes on her, the hint of a smirk playing about his perfect lips.

"So long as we are," she was searching for words but only coming up with, "friends."

"Friends?"

"Yes, friends."

Unexpectedly, he reached across the table and ran his fingertips down her inner forearm and locked his eyes on hers. The light touch raised gooseflesh on her arms and her thoughts went fuzzy.

"Je pense que toi et moi sommes plus des amis, Hazel."

Hazel knew a little bit of French, but not enough to understand a native speaker. She could read it fine, but hearing it was another matter entirely.

"What does that mean?" she asked quietly.

"It means, I think you and I are more than friends." He replied in a hushed tone. His hand drifted up her arm slowly, languorously and came to rest on the crook of her neck, tracing the curves he found there with his thumb. "At least, I hope we are."

She became malleable under his hand and he felt it. Using this malleability to his advantage he pulled her closer until his lips were mere centimeters from hers. Just before he kissed her he stopped.

"Hazel?" he whispered and she moaned lightly in response, "Are you sure you want this?"

She responded by brushing her lips against his, "Oui."

* * *

She stood outside of York Minster five days later, wringing her hands and praying that Bill showed up. Her worry stemmed from the fact that she did not know Bill well enough to know whether or not he would be angry with her for what had happened with Fred. He hadn't sent her a letter to cancel their meeting, which she took as a good sign. However, it could also mean that he was going to stand her up. Nervously, she pulled her sweaty hands out of the pockets of her shorts and wiped them off.

Looking around, she caught sight of a tall, lanky redhead heading in her direction, smiling congenially. His red locks were darker than the twins', and nearly as long as her own, tied into a careless low ponytail at the nape of his neck. She also noticed when he got closer that he had a dragon fang dangling from his ear. God, he looked cool. If Kurt Cobain had been a red-haired wizard, he would've looked like the bloke striding toward her.

"You're Hazel, right?" he asked as he got closer.

She nodded and countered with, "Bill?"

"It's good to finally meet you!" he exclaimed, shaking her hand unexpectedly. She let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. At least he didn't hate her, as she had feared.

"You as well! Shall we?" she said, motioning to the door of the Minster.

"Let's!" he piped and they set off toward the Gothic façade. He let out a low whistle as they entered, looking up at the ceiling as his brothers had while she checked in with Cindy.

"Another one, Hazel? And a redhead, too! I think you've got a type!" she teased good-naturedly.

"I'll have you know that he's the elder brother of the twins I brought here a few weeks ago! He's only here to help me with career advice so I'll thank you to mind you own business!" Hazel snapped quietly, stomping away and down the knave toward the Undercroft.

Once they arrived in the small underground square, Bill's jaw dropped.

"I didn't know they had an Ollivander's here!" he said, walking over to the all-but-abandoned storefront. The twins' alteration on the sign was still there and Hazel was hit with a twinge of guilt, Fred's face materializing before her.

"Yeah, supposedly it's for emergencies, but I don't think he's been there in years." She explained.

"Doesn't look it," Bill said, peeking in the window before noticing the sign, "My brothers did that, didn't they?" he pointed to it, a charming half-smile forming on his lips.

"Yeah, they did." Hazel half-laughed before quickly changing the subject, "The pub is over here."

The small bell above the door tinkled as Bill opened it for Hazel. They crossed to the bar and took two stools near the end. Jack greeted her warmly and raised an eyebrow at her, glancing over to Bill.

"Jack, this is Bill Weasley. He's a Curse-Breaker for Gringotts. He's answering a few questions I have about the job and he practically begged me to try one of your Tongue-Loosners." She cooed, stroking the barman's ego expertly.

"Nice to meet you Bill. I'll get those drinks started." Jack said, smacking the bar lightly as he strode away.

"You're on first-name basis with the barkeep? Should that serve as a warning?" Bill joked in much the same tone as his brothers used.

"Jack's done business with my grandfather for ages. He's known me since before my head cleared the bar." Hazel explained.

"Ah. That's a bit better then." Jack wandered over and placed their drinks in front of them and Hazel raised hers to Bill.

"To…what should we toast to?" she asked.

"To new friends." Bill said without missing a beat.

"New friends, then." She agreed, clinking her glass against hers and sipping her drink, her eyes watching the expression on Bill's face.

His eyes widened into an expression of pure rapture, "Wow. That's bloody amazing."

"That's what George said."

"I bet. We Weasleys have very refined palates."

"So we're friends now?"

"You've won the affections of Fred and George, you got nine O.W.L.s, congratulations by the way, you're friends with by far the best bartender in the North, and you've got an interest in curse-breaking. Why not be friends?" he asked, ticking each item off on his long fingers and giving her an infectious Weasley smile. She smiled forlornly back at him and took another, longer sip of her Tongue Loosner.

"I'm not so sure about that first one anymore." She muttered, setting her drink back on the bar.

"Oh, come now. Freddie just needs some time to lick his wounds. They'll be back in no time." He said cheerfully, patting her hand before adding, "If they know what's good for them," with a dangerous wink.

"I hope so."

"Now didn't you have some questions to ask me?" he led, changing the subject purposefully.

Hazel smiled genuinely and reached into her pocket, retrieving her long list of questions.

"You bet I do."

Their Q and A lasted the better part of an afternoon, during which Jack shut down Bill's many attempts to pay him. They ordered some chips and cheese during their chat, and the more Bill talked the more Hazel wanted the next two years to speed up so she could become a Curse Breaker. As they gathered their things, Bill threw a handful of coins on the bar and rushed Hazel out before Jack could refuse payment yet again.

"If nothing else, he can have it as a tip. Those drinks are amazing!" he explained as they made their way out of the Minster and into the cool evening air that smelled of approaching rain.

"Thank you so much, Bill. This really helped." She thanked sincerely.

"Didn't scare ya off, did I?" he joked, hands buried deep in his pockets.

"On the contrary. I think you talked me into it."

"Ah, the Weasley powers of persuasion strike again!"

"Yes, you're a regular silver-tongued devil!" Hazel and Bill laughed, but their mirth petered out quickly and an awkward silence settled over them. Hazel scuffed her trainer on the ground and Bill sighed.

"Well, I'd best be getting home then." He stated in an obvious tone.

"Alright." Hazel said, still watching as her the rubber toes of her converse dislodged the gravel of the Minster courtyard.

"Yep…home to my parent's house."

"Where else?" she raised her eyes and inspected the oxidized copper statue of Emperor Constantine that was twenty yards away.

"Where my brothers live…if someone had a message for me to pass along to one of them…" he suggested, giving Hazel an expectant look that she saw out of the corner of her eye.

She let out a long sigh, "I don't think a simple apology will suffice this time, Bill."

"You never know unless you try."

"No, I know it won't work. Not coming from you, at least…you can tell them, tell him, that I miss him. And that I hope to see him at the World Cup. And I hope he doesn't hate me."

"Alright, you miss him, World Cup, hate you. Got it." Bill repeated, making sure he'd caught all of her rambling answer.

She smiled, "You sure?"

Bill tapped his temple in a manner that palpably reminded her of George, "Steel trap."

"Good. Thanks again, Bill. I'll see you at the Cup!" she thanked him again and, after making sure that no Muggles were paying attention, he disapparated. Hazel looked as nonchalant as possible as she walked home.

* * *

She arrived back at the flat to find Julia in the kitchen cooking something that smelled sinfully good and made Hazel's stomach grumble. The lovely auburn-haired woman stuck her head out of the kitchen, a smile brightening it immediately.

"Oh, Hazel, welcome home!" she greeted breathlessly, "How was your grandparents'?"

Hazel was confused for a second, but caught on to her father's lie quickly. He couldn't very well have told her that Hazel had gone and sought magical career advice in a secret pub in the basement of the Minster, could he? At least this was a reasonable lie; last week he'd told Julia that she'd gone to buy a Super Nintendo (whatever that was) for her dorm room. After Julia had unfortunately caught sight of Euripides in Hazel's room, Daniel told her that the building was infested with owls.

"It was nice. We had a lovely chat, some tea, the usual." She lied breezily. While she had minded lying to Ewan, Hazel didn't feel badly about lying to Julia because she didn't bear the responsibility. If Julia ever discovered the truth on her own, it would be Daniel's ass on the line; not Hazel's.

"It's nice that you're so close to them. All my grandparents died before I was born!" Julia commented, disappearing back into the kitchen.

"What smells so good?" Hazel asked above the sound of the oven opening as she plopped onto the sofa and opened a recent copy of Rolling Stone.

"Beef Bourginon. Your dad mentioned he'd never had it before, so I thought I'd give it a go!" Julia answered enthusiastically.

Hazel put down the magazine and rose from the couch after a moment. It had been a few days since she'd last sent Euripides off with her last letter to Veronica outlining what had happened with Fred and how she was feeling about the whole Felix situation (they'd gone a bit farther than planned on her last visit). However, she had another woman in her life now who could potentially help.

Hazel stood at the doorway to the kitchen and leaned against the frame, "Julia?" she asked.

"Yes?"

"Can I ask you for some womanly advice?"

"Of course! Come sit down, would you like a cuppa?" Julia said, bustling over to Hazel and leading her to the small table before dashing over to fill the kettle.

"That'd be great, thanks."

She remained silent as Julia poured the tea and, rather surprisingly, remembered how Hazel liked it (one sugar, dash of milk). She set the mugs down and sat across from Hazel, looking at her expectantly.

"So what seems to be the problem?" she asked, blinking her large green eyes at Hazel.

"First, promise me that you will not say a word about this to my dad. He'd die if he found out."

"I promise. Just between us."

The sincerity in Julia's voice gave her the necessary confidence to continue, "Alright. There are these two blokes, right? And I fancy both of them. One is one of my best mates from school, he's charming, and funny, and handsome, but he and I have gone back and forth so many times it's like we're competing at Wimbledon. Neither one of us will make a definitive decision on the matter…well, not until recently." Hazel paused to sip her tea and calm her nerves. Now that she was saying these things out loud, she couldn't believe how silly it sounded.

"Go on." Julia urged gently, her own mug of tea untouched and her undivided attention on Hazel.

"Enter bloke number two. I just met him this summer. He's staying with my grandparents and he's…a Greek God. Seriously, go look at any statue in the British Museum's Greek section and you'll get what I mean. He is gorgeous and sweet and ridiculously cultured, but he's returning home at the end of the summer and I may never see him again."

"So what happened recently? That made bloke number one make the decision."

Hazel sighed and leaned back in her chair as she raked her fingers through her hair, "They met each other. I had written to number two and told him that I wanted to start something, but then number one came over and…things happened – nothing pelvic, mind you –" she addressed the raised eyebrow of her father's girlfriend, "just…things that could've finally decided what we were to each other. But then guy number two shows up and confronts guy number one with the contents of my letter and number one and I had a row and he scarpered off…it's all just one big bloody mess and I have no idea what to do."

Julia was silent, her brow knitted in concentration. Hazel could see the wheels turning in her mind as she watched Hazel drink her tea slowly. The oven timer went off and that seemed to snap her back into consciousness.

"What it sounds like to me is that you've got two, possibly three options." She said as she rose gracefully from her chair and shut off the timer. She peeked into the oven, then added a few more minutes and moved to sit back down.

"And they are?"

"Option one, you stop seeing the Greek God and make things right with your mate from school. This option may involve a lot of begging and groveling on your part, and in the end you may only succeed in getting your friend back, not starting a relationship with him. If that is what you want, of course."

"Okay, option two?" Hazel nodded, taking in option one.

"Option two, you take full advantage of the Greek God while you can before he leaves possibly forever. This could end in one of two ways; either you two fall madly in love and have a relationship, or you go back to school a single lady and revert to option one."

Hazel groaned, "I don't like the sound of that one."

"Right. Which leaves option three. It's sort of a mix of one and two. Remain mates with both of them. Repair your relationship with your mate from school, and tell the god that you were high on PCP when you wrote that letter and you just want to be friends."

This earned a laugh from Hazel, but by far sounded like the most feasible option. If she was only friends with Felix, perhaps Fred would forgive her and things could return to normal between the two of them. And since she couldn't make up her mind between them, holding each at arm's length for a while couldn't hurt.

"I think that's what I'll do. You are a font of good advice, Julia. Cheers." Hazel said, finishing her tea and heading toward her room.

"Don't run off! Dinner should be ready soon!" Julia called in such a way that made Hazel stop in her tracks.

Was this what it was like to have a mum?

That thought paralyzed her and turned her insides to jelly. Over the last weeks she had thought about the prospect of her dad and Julia getting married. It wasn't until now that Hazel realized that, in that case, not only would her dad have a new wife but also that she would have a stepmother. A mum to replace the one she had never known. A voice in the back of her head thought that that might not be such a bad thing; to finally have a mother after all these years.

Those thoughts made her sick. Hazel bit her lip and finished the journey to her room in five long paces, shutting her door and leaning against it, breathing heavily. After a minute she turned on some music to help drown out the thoughts. She lay on the carpet and Leia slunk over, crawling up onto her chest and purring comfortingly.

Hazel petted her cat and tried to ignore the guilt that was rattling its way through her bones.

* * *

 **Reviews = Rainbow Butterfly Unicorn Kittens!**


	19. The World Cup

**Wow. Chapter 19. This is awesome guys!**

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 **Favorites: littlebirdy123 and xXBeautifullyRebelliousXx! Thanks for the vote of confidence! It's a real ego boost!**

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 **Thank you all for consistently being awesome! I love my little fanbase, and I hope you keep enjoying Hazel's journey!**

 **And now, The World Cup!**

* * *

Even though she didn't care much for Quidditch, the days leading up to the World Cup were tortuously slow for Hazel. It didn't help that Felix wasn't speaking to her after she told him she just wanted to be friends.

"If I am ever going to make things right with Fred, you and I need to be just friends." She had explained to him.

"Since when do you care about what he thinks?" Felix asked, "I thought you wanted to be with me!"

"I care because he's my friend and you're just a fling being thrown at me by my grandparents!" she blurted, throwing her hands over her mouth as the words slipped out. His beautiful face darkened and sharpened so that he resembled a gargoyle on the parapets of Hogwarts.

"I understand. We will no longer see each other." He said bitterly, striding away on his long, lean legs. He paused at the door and looked back at her, " _Au revoir_ , Hazel."

She hadn't heard from him since then. Every time she visited her grandparents, he was with his uncle at the Ministry or walking about the grounds or otherwise occupied. He was avoiding her, and she couldn't fault him for that. All she could do was miss him.

* * *

 _'Dear Hazel,_

 _Since Fred is being incredibly pig-headed, I have taken the liberty of rifling through his things and finding your letter so I can respond to it. Also, as your friend, I miss you as well. I'm actually a little hurt that you have written Fred so many times and me so few._

 _But to the point at hand, Hazel, I don't like the person Fred has become this last week. I don't blame you for it, but I do think that apologies are in order. If you agree, please write me back and we can set up a time for us all to meet. Bill told me that you were very upset by it, and obviously Fred is too. It's high time for you two to kiss and make up._

 _Well, maybe not kiss, but you understand._

 _George.'_

* * *

 _'George,_

 _I would love to get together and figure out a solution to this mess, but I am otherwise occupied until the World Cup._

 _I miss you too, and would like you to know that both of you are always welcome._

 _Love,_

 _Hazel'_

* * *

Finally the day before the World Cup came and she packed an overnight bag, kissed her dad on the cheek, and promised she'd behave herself. He handed her a thermos of coffee since it was still half an hour before sunrise and she was not a morning person. Especially over summer break.

Her grandfather met her near the ruins of St. Mary's. In the pre-dawn light, the ruins were hauntingly beautiful shades of grey and purple and the morning breeze seemed to sing an ancient tune as it whipped through the archways.

"Morning, dearie." He said as he approached, having apparated close by. The dark circles under his eyes told Hazel he had been awake all night, since he didn't excel at leaving bed before nine. She pulled the thermos of coffee out of her bag and offered him some.

"Thanks, love." He said, taking a drink, "Now, we should find that Portkey, your gran will be along later. Having a bit of a lie-in." Angus explained.

"And the French?"

"They'll be along later too. Some final things to tidy up at the Ministry or some such nonsense. I offered Felix to come along with us, but he said he'd prefer to wait for his uncle."

"So where is this portkey?" she asked, avoiding her grandfather's eye as she changed the subject.

"Well," He said, extracting a bit of parchment from his vest pocket, along with a handsome fob watch, "The note from the Ministry says it should be about 50 yards from the main archway. We've got," he checked the watch, "twenty-three minutes to find it. The Monkisses should be joining us as well. Hope they make it in time, Dorcas is habitually late for things." He tucked the watch back into his vest pocket.

Even though it promised to be a warm day, Angus Nithercott was dressed in his usual suit vest and impeccably knotted tie, but had swapped his trousers for shorts and his full-sleeve shirt for a short-sleeve button down. This outfit gave her grandfather the impression of being an overgrown boy with grey hair. She smiled at the thought before she caught a glimpse of a rusting French horn about twenty feet away.

"Grandpa, I think I've found it!" She shouted over her shoulder as she jogged toward it. The bluish glow that was coming off of it told her she was right. Her grandfather joined her shortly and nodded.

"Not exactly inconspicuous, but I do suppose they have to make do with what they've got. This is a global event after all." He reasoned, mostly to himself.

They stood in silence because it was simply too damn early for either one to be particularly loquacious. About ten minutes later they were joined by a rotund woman and a twiggy man, whom her grandfather introduced as Dorcas and Julian Monkiss. Dorcas wore a chartreuse pair of trousers and an unfortunate matching top with frilled shoulders. Julian, loping after his wife, wore a periwinkle bathrobe over what appeared to be pajamas, as if he had been ripped from bed much like Hazel had. He was also burdened with the task of carrying their luggage. The amount of which made Hazel, an unapologetic over-packer, feel as if she had packed lightly.

"Yes, we made it! Keep your snide comments to yourself, Angus! Where's Renatta?" Dorcas demanded. Her face looked as if it had once been long and lean, but the years had taken their toll.

"Having a bit of a lie-in. I'm escorting our granddaughter, Hazel." He explained, introducing her to the wizarding couple.

Soon after they began their idle chatter about the match, the French horn started to glow brighter and they all took their places and grabbed on. After the unpleasant tug behind her navel, she landed with a thud in a grassy field. Her grandfather helped her to her feet as a rather shaken-looking wizard strode by.

"Six seventeen from York!" he declared. Hazel looked round while her grandfather got the details from the wizard. The field was jam-packed with tents and witches and wizards from all over the world. And, if Hazel was correct, this was not the only field the Cup-goers occupied.

"This way, Hazel." Her grandfather's voice pulled her out of her early-morning daze and she followed him to a row of fancy-looking tents right next to the tree line. Angus looked over his shoulders and reached into his bag with his hands, digging up to his biceps and retrieving a large tent.

"Help me with this, would you love?" he grunted, reaching back into the bag for more of the tent. Hazel grabbed it and started pulling. She was fifty feet from the tree line before the entire thing was out of the bag.

After checking to make sure no one was watching again, Angus waved his wand and the giant tent erected itself. Like many others around them, it was two stories tall with large windows and resembled a posh Muggle house more than a tent. Hazel had always despised camping, but if she and her dad had a tent this nice perhaps she wouldn't hate it as much.

The inside was even more impressive than the outside as it was a two-thirds model of Nithercott Manor, complete with roaring fireplaces.

"Grandpa, if we're only here three days why do we need all this space?" she asked absentmindedly.

"The French are joining us. Unfortunately the upper floor is missing a few rooms, so you and Felix will have to double up. I hope that won't be a problem?" he assumed as Hazel's gaze dropped.

"No. It won't. I'm going to go catch a few hours of sleep." She uttered, mounting the staircase.

She slept fitfully for a few hours before she heard the bedroom door open and close. Lifting her head off the pillow, she saw Felix crossing over toward the other bed.

"Oh, I am sorry. I did not realize you were sleeping." He muttered, looking at his feet in embarrassment. The look suited him and Hazel couldn't help but curse herself for leading him on the way she had. He was ridiculously handsome, even when trying to appear contrite.

"It's alright. What time is it?" she asked, running a hand through her hair.

"It is almost midday." He said curtly, sitting on his bed and taking his shoes off.

Hazel thought briefly about trying to apologize to him, but decided against it. He was going back to France in four days; it was easier to not care what he thought of her than to admit that she cared enough about him to care that she had hurt him. She rose from her bed and finger brushed her hair, knowing she must look a mess. She was about to leave when he broke the silence.

"I understand why you said we should no longer see each other."

"You do?" she turned, surprised by his confession.

"Oui. And I am sorry that I overreacted. It was…selfish of me."

Hazel could only manage a nod in response.

"So…friends?" he asked softly, his blue eyes boring into hers. She nodded again and put a hand on his knee.

"Yeah, friends. Want to go wander around a bit?" she suggested hopefully. He agreed and they left the expansive tent. Once out on the grassy paths they had both loosened up and were back to their old selves, laughing and joking and playfully pushing each other around.

"Do you follow Quidditch?" Felix asked jovially.

"No, not at all! I only ever go to the cup games at school!" she declared.

"So you are not a fan then."

"I like it just fine. In small doses. One game every six months is about my limit."

"I guess you will not be betting on the game?"

Hazel laughed heartily, "No. I barely even know who's playing tomorrow. I also have no desire to lose any amount of money over a game I know very little about."

"What if we did not bet money?"

Hazel was intrigued, "What would that wager look like?"

"We both pick one team to win. If you win, you can choose your reward. If I win, I get one kiss from the most beautiful woman in the British Isles." He smirked and nudged her with his shoulder, knocking her to the side a little. She smirked back and righted her course since she had always been good on her feet.

"Alright. If I win you have to put on the frilliest dress robes I can find and dance around the bonfire singing, 'I was wrong, I was wrong, I was wrong!'"

"Okay, make your guess." He laughed.

"I think Bulgaria will win. That's my official guess."

"And I think the Irish will win. Shake on it." He said, offering his hand out to her. She took it and they shook hands, Felix pausing and raising her hand to his lips and planting a small kiss there. Hazel blushed a bit and tried to hide her small smile.

"We should get back." She mumbled, heading back in the direction of their monstrous tent.

* * *

 _Hazel stood atop a ravine, the wind whipping her hair all around. She wore a familiar red dress and was staring at the Man in Black. He circled her, one hand on his hip and the other on the hilt of his sword._

 _"What say you, Missy?" he prodded in a familiar voice that Hazel couldn't quite place._

 _"You've hurt me too many times!" she shouted._

 _"You've hurt me as well!"_

 _"I say fuck off!" she lunged forward and pushed him over. He started tumbling down the hill as gravity took charge._

 _"AS…YOU…WISH!" she heard him yell as he kept falling. The ice surrounding her heart disappeared as his mask fell off and she saw the bright red hair. In that instant, she knew she had made a horrible mistake._

 _She threw herself after him and she lost control of her body, tumbling painfully toward the bottom of the ravine and eventually coming to a stop next to him._

 _They crawled over to each other and entangled themselves in one another's limbs. His lips found hers and she kissed him back breathlessly, tracing her fingers lightly down the side of his face. Visions of white daisies and magical fireworks and firewhiskey swam in front of her and she threaded her fingers through his ginger hair, pulling him closer._

 _For the first time in a long, long time, she felt like everything was exactly how it should've been. Everything felt right._

* * *

Hazel woke up the next morning and glanced at the clock on the wall. It was ten o'clock, the sun was streaming through the window and Felix was already gone. She got dressed and headed down the stairs and outside to where her grandfather was tending the bonfire and sipping some whiskey out of his hip flask.

"Morning." She said, helping herself to the breakfast spread on the table by the fire. She couldn't get her mind off of her dream. Fred was all she could think about. She quickly ate her breakfast and headed back up to the room, pulling her Discman out of her duffel bag and praying that it would work.

Apparently there wasn't as much magic in the air here as there was at Hogwarts because she was able to put her headphones on and tune out the world for a few hours until the batteries gave out. Nirvana proved an excellent choice in this regard, as she didn't hear her grandmother enter the room and announce that it was time to head over to the stadium.

Renatta sighed annoyedly and tapped her granddaughter on the forehead with her wand. Her blue eyes opened and she took the headband that was covering her ears off.

"Oh, sorry Gran. Did you need something?" Hazel asked.

"Yes, dear, it's time to go." Hazel hopped off the bed and put her shoes on.

As soon as she left the tent, Hazel could feel the excitement buzzing through the air. She kept in stride with Felix as they trekked through the woods to come to the stadium, which was bigger than any Hazel had ever seen. Ten of York Minster could easily fit inside it. All she could feel at the moment was awe, and her grandfather prodding her up the stairs.

About halfway up the staircase on one side of the stadium, Ambassador LaMaire shook hands with her grandfather and led his entourage away.

"Where are they going?" Hazel asked as Felix waved goodbye to her.

"Their seats are lower than ours are. We're in the Minister's box!" her grandmother explained excitedly, motioning for her to keep going up.

When it felt like her legs would officially fall off, the trio arrived at the Minister's box. Her grandfather presented their tickets and the guard let them in, shutting the door and cutting off all the noise of the awaiting fans. Hazel's eyes scanned the box, which was very posh indeed, with a buffet set out along the back wall and plush leather chairs.

She froze in her place when she caught sight of a gaggle of red-haired people occupying the front right corner of the box.

"Ah! Arthur!" Angus called and the twins' father strode over, his hand outstretched.

"Angus, good to see you! Renatta, you look lovely as ever." Arthur said before turning his attention to Hazel, "And this must be your granddaughter!"

"That's me!" Hazel said, shaking his warm hand. Over his shoulder she could see Bill and George approaching while Fred sulked in his seat.

"So you're the one who's got my sons all besotted!" Arthur joked before Bill clapped him on the back.

"C'mon dad, she's much too young for me!" Bill stated, shooting a wink in Hazel's direction and leading his dad back toward the buffet. George stood there with his arms outstretched for a hug. It wasn't until then that Hazel realized she hadn't actually seen him in nearly a month.

"How've you been, Georgie?" she asked from his chest.

"Oh you know. Scheming devious plots, plotting devious schemes, the usual." They broke out of the hug and Hazel lowered her voice.

"And how's…you know." She said, looking pointedly over to where Fred was making a show of chatting idly with Ginny.

"He's alright. Wasn't expecting to see you I bet."

"I'm sorry about not being able to meet before this. One of my dad's employees got sick and I had to fill in…Please point out that the Frenchman is out of the picture. Or at least he will be in a few days."

"I think that's better coming from you." George admitted, shifting on his feet awkwardly. He hated acting as their go-between. His letter to Hazel was a desperate attempt at trying to get them to reconcile. When he received her reply he'd all but given up hope, but seeing how miserable she looked gave him confidence that they would soon be back to normal.

"Think he'll hear me out?" she asked dolefully, flicking her eyes to the comically large Ireland hat Fred was wearing.

"Not before the match. You should stop by our tent tonight; it's real easy to find, just outside the forest on the main road. I'll make sure he talks to you then." He promised, his hand on her elbow reassuringly as Ludo Bagman stood and called the crowd to attention.

"Hazel, get over here! It's about to start!" her grandfather called excitedly from his seat. Hazel thanked George and headed over to her seat between her grandparents.

* * *

By Hazel's standards, the World Cup was one hell of a game. Viktor Krum was an even better flier than Oliver, and his techniques were flawless. However, even though she had bet on Bulgaria, she was glad the Irish won. The Irish worked better as a team, whereas (it seemed to Hazel) the Bulgarians were relying on a few very talented players.

She was debating on whether to go back to her grandparents' tent or go straight to the Weasleys'. The Weasley clan had gotten down the stairs before Hazel and her party, so they would most assuredly be there. The night breeze blew delicately against her skin and the stars twinkled above her through the treetops.

She cleared her throat loudly enough for her grandmother to hear, "Gran, I'm going to my friend's tent! Shan't be long!" she shouted as she dashed through the woods.

"Alright dear!"

Hazel followed her feet and, despite the large crowd, found the Weasley's tent. She knew it was theirs when she saw Mr. Weasley, Bill, and the only brother whose name she did not know sitting in front of the fire, passing a flask of something between the three of them. Bill caught her eye as she approached and rose to greet her.

"Hazel Herrod! What're you doing here?" he asked a bit more loudly than necessary as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and led her toward the fire.

"I'm here to see the twins." She explained simply.

"Oi! Fred, George! The lovely Hazel is here to see you!" Bill shouted, poking his head inside the tent flap and ushering her inside. Her jaw dropped when she saw the extent of the Extension Charm that was obviously at work in the tent. Without taking precise measurements, she was almost certain that the tent was the size of her flat. Or at least very close.

George led Fred over by his arm and pushed them behind a canvas flap so they were all three relatively alone.

"What is she doing here?" Fred asked, flicking his eyes over to Hazel.

"I'm here to explain and try to get my friend back!" she interrupted before George could respond.

"What she means is that she wants you to hear her out." George clarified.

"I'm not interested in anything you have to say." Fred sulked as he tried to push past his brother and Hazel to escape.

"Felix is leaving _tomorrow_! I will most likely never see him again and, more importantly, he and I are friends, that's it!" Hazel pushed her way in front of Fred and blocked his path, grabbing his forearms, "Please, _please_ believe me Fred! I never meant to hurt you and if I could take it all back I would! I miss you so damn much that I'm willing to ambush you the night after the World Cup instead of celebrating properly! Please! Just say you believe me!"

She was begging him and knew how desperate she must look, her fingers digging into the sinew under his jumper. She could smell his familiar smell and she watched his face, a smile crossing it when she saw it soften.

"Well fuck, Herrod. You didn't have to prepare a whole damn speech." He said cheekily as he wrapped his arms around her. She choked a cry of relief as she buried her face in his scratchy jumper.

Fred's eyes met his twin's and George gave him a thumbs-up, which Fred returned. Her words had melted the ice palace he had painstakingly built around his heart and having her back in his arms felt so right that he wasn't sure he ever wanted to let her go. That is, until George cleared his throat and motioned for them to quit the secluded area.

"I should probably go." Hazel said, trying to hide the smile on her face. She had her wily friend back. He had forgiven her and the uncomfortable weight that had long since settled in her chest immediately dissipated when he wrapped his arms around her.

"It's rather dark, and there's no telling how drunk the Irish are at the moment. You could stay here for a bit until things die down if you like." Fred offered with a casual shrug. If he was honest with himself, he didn't want her to go just yet. His chest fluttered when she nodded.

"Yeah, okay. Why not?" she said, taking a mug of cocoa that Ginny had shoved into her hand with that charming smile of hers.

"He's not just a seeker; he's an artist!" Ron shouted, hopping up on the table. The twins then proceeded to take the mickey as they heard some distant explosions and shouts.

"Sounds like the Irish have got their pride on." George said. Seconds later Mr. Weasley burst through the tent door and shouted for them to stop. They were all swept out of the tent and Mr. Weasley told them to head for the woods and stick together; that he was going to help the Ministry.

With what, Hazel unfortunately caught a glimpse of. The Muggle landowner and his wife and children were hanging upside-down in midair. A group of masked people in dark robes seemed to be the ringleaders. Hazel heard a woman's scream as Fred intertwined his fingers with his and led her away.

She felt like she was going to be sick. George and Ginny kept running, but Hazel couldn't run anymore as the thoughts of the poor Muggles kept flashing in her mind. She stopped about twenty feet from the tree line and put her hands on her knees. Fred stopped a few paces ahead of her, urging her on as yet another fire sprouted from the campground.

"Hazel, come on, we've got to go!" he shouted over to her. She didn't move, so he ran over and picked her up bridal style and booked it toward the woods. He noticed that her face was tear-stained. Once they were safe in the woods he put her down and wiped her tears away with the sleeve of his jumper.

"What's wrong?"

"Those Muggles…the people in masks, those were Death Eaters, yeah?" she assumed, wringing her hands together. That was the only explanation she could think of. Her mind was going a million miles a second. If they were coming after Muggles, how long would it be before they came after her? She was practically a Muggle anyway.

Fred ran a hand through his hair, "Yeah. I think so."

"So does that mean that… _he's_ coming back?" she asked timidly. He gave in and wrapped his arms around her protectively.

"I don't know." He admitted quietly. "I really don't know. But if he does, Hazel, you know that I won't let anything happen to you."

His words assuaged her fears and his familiar scent helped bring her back from the brink of a panic attack.

"Hazel! Hazel!" a familiar French voice called through the dark and her eyes, which had drifted closed against Fred's chest, snapped open. She slightly pushed away from Fred and saw Felix bounding through the woods, wand at the ready. Her hands still on Fred's arms, she felt him tense under her grasp as Felix drew closer.

"Hazel! There you are! Your grandparents are worried sick! They are apparating home tonight, we have to go!" he said, reaching for her hand.

"I thought you said he was out of the picture!" Fred growled into her ear.

"One minute, Felix!" she said over her shoulder before quickly returning her attention to Fred, "He's leaving tomorrow, everything I said was true. Please don't read anything into this. I'll owl you as soon as I can!"

Quick as a flash, she placed a hand on the crook of his neck, placed a kiss on his cheek, and left him standing there but not before letting her hand linger for a moment.

Fred touched the warm spot where her lips had been a second earlier. Even though she had run off with the Frenchman, he was glad to have her back.

He wouldn't fuck it up this time.

* * *

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	20. Moving Forward and Moving On

**Holy Crap Chapter 20!**

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* * *

Hazel was thankful to get off the World Cup grounds when she did. She regretted leaving Fred behind, but she wrote him a short note saying that she got home all right and couldn't wait to see him on the train in a week, and if he wanted to stop by the flat he was more than welcome.

Her grandfather and the French visitors had stayed behind to help the Ministry and take down the tent. She side-along apparated back to Nithercott Manor with her grandmother, who insisted she get some sleep before heading home. She blearily agreed and trudged up the stairs but Felix blocked her path once she reached the top.

"What _now_?" she asked tiredly.

"You lost the bet. I have simply come to collect my prize." He said haughtily. He pressed his lips to hers and, instead of the sparks she was used to feeling, she simply felt nothing. It was three in the morning and she just wanted to get to sleep.

"Thanks, Felix." She murmured as she pushed past him and entered her mother's room.

The last thoughts she had before falling asleep were of the World Cup. She hoped everything was okay and that nothing else had happened after she left Fred all alone in the woods.

The Daily Prophet dashed that hope the next morning. Hazel went down to breakfast to see the Dark Mark staring up at her from the front page of the newspaper and her appetite vanished. Her grandfather noticed her staring at it and broke the silence in the room.

"Nasty turn of events, eh?" he mentioned, buttering a scone. Hazel whimpered in response.

"Oh, my dear, you're not worried about that are you?" her grandmother asked from across the table.

"Shouldn't I be?"

"Oh no. Probably just a bunch of ne'er-do-wells hopped up on the excitement of the night and a fair bit of alcohol, things got out of hand." Her grandfather explained in a cavalier tone, brushing off his granddaughter's concern.

"Didn't you hear about what happened to those Muggles? That's not drunken antics, Gramp, that's surely premeditated! God, you don't understand!" Hazel threw down her fork, which clattered noisily against her empty plate and made her grandmother jump.

"Hazel! Control yourself!" Renatta reprimanded as Hazel leapt up from her seat.

"Control myself!? How am I supposed to do that when last night I could very well have been attacked? Do you have any idea what it feels like to look over your shoulder because of an accident of birth?" Hazel shouted, the fear she felt last night seeping back into her brain.

"You're not a Muggleborn, Hazel, you've got little to worry about."

"And besides, we are an old and powerful house. You've got nothing to worry about as long as we're around. Don't be so dramatic." Her grandmother said arrogantly.

"You two don't understand. If anti-Muggle sentiment still runs this deep, what is to stop Death Eaters from eventually coming after me; I was raised by a Muggle for Merlin's sake!"

Angus's hand slammed against the breakfast table and he looked to his granddaughter with dangerous eyes, "Hazel Amelia Herrod, as long as there is breath in my body and my blood in your veins you will be safe. The fact that you would even question that is deeply disconcerting. Now sit down and eat some breakfast before you go back to that overcrowded box your father calls a home."

Hazel sank back into her seat and pulled some sausages onto her plate. She had never seen her grandfather that angry before. She had seen him yell and scream and stamp his feet when her uncle accidentally dropped the last case of a Special Reserve firewhiskey, but this was a newer, more terrifying anger. He was calm and very much in control. It was like a quiet inferno rather than a raging thunderstorm.

She ate her breakfast quickly and bid her grandparents a terse farewell, but was stopped at the fireplace by her grandmother who carried a large box with her.

"You'll be wanting to pack this with your school things, dear. It's charmed not to open until December. It doesn't make sense now, but by then I think it will!" she winked at her granddaughter, handing her the large rectangular box with the Madame Malkins' logo on it, tied with a large purple ribbon. She thanked her grandmother and, shifting the cumbersome box under her arm, threw the Floo Powder at her feet.

* * *

 _'Dear Felix,_

 _I am sorry for how I've been acting these last few weeks. Please know that it was more about my own issues than any fault of your own. You see, I think I may have strong feelings for Fred and may have acted prematurely when I said I wanted to be with you. In any other circumstance, I would have loved to have a true summer fling with you._

 _I am also sorry that I will not be attending the going-away party my grandparents are throwing you. It was an absolute pleasure to get to know you this summer and I sincerely hope we see each other again some day. Safe travels home and best of luck on your final year at Beauxbatons!_

 _Hazel'_

Felix read the letter she had left on his pillow and his heart dropped. The letter was cold and cordial, where a few weeks ago she had been warm and sensual. He thought of their first kiss in the dining room; how they had taken a blanket out to the little duck pond on the grounds and kissed under the late morning sun. How she had stripped off her thin tee shirt and tiny shorts and dived into the cool water. How he had followed and continued kissing her in the water, holding her body close and wanting to take her. How they had let their mouths wander over each other's bodies as they had dried out under the sun.

He sighed and crumpled the parchment in his hands, tossing it aside.

 _At least my plan worked,_ he thought bitterly, running a hand through his hair. _I forgot all about Odette. But now I must try and forget about Hazel._

And with the knowledge of the events of the next school year, he knew it would be a difficult task indeed.

* * *

 _'Fred,_

 _It is almost three in the morning, but I just wanted to send you a note to let you know I am safe. I got back to York all right, there's no need to worry. Please write and let me know you're safe. I'm so sorry for just taking off like that!_

 _I will see you next week on the train! Or sooner if you want to stop by the flat before then. You'd be more than welcome._

 _Hazel_

 _P.S. I've missed you.'_

The post script looked to have been added almost as an afterthought, for the writing was a bit more slanted and hurried than her normally precise strokes. Fred couldn't contain his smile. Despite the fact that she had run off with the Frenchman the night previous, her thoughts had obviously been with him for the better chunk of the night, as his had been with her.

She wanted him to write her that he was safe. She wanted him to visit her small, crowded flat again. She wanted him.

Fred fell back on his bed and stared at the ceiling with a large, goofy smile on his face and the letter pressed against his chest. In that moment he felt invincible, like when he and George had successfully broken into Snape's living quarters and charmed his shampoo to turn his normally greasy hair into a perfect feathered flip (Hazel had called the hairstyle "Farrah hair", whatever that meant).

After a moment to catch his breath, he sat up and wrote her a quick response so she knew he had was still in one piece. He decided to go visit her that weekend. Perhaps he'd bring flowers he thought to himself as he snuck up the stairs and "borrowed" Hermes from Percy's room.

 _Yeah,_ he thought as he watched the owl fly away, _I'll bring flowers._

* * *

 _'Hazel,_

 _We all got back in one piece; there's no need to worry! I will most definitely stop by this weekend because the thought of not seeing you until next week is rather depressing._

 _Love,_

 _Fred'_

She couldn't help but feel a giddy sort of excitement rise up in her chest and explode out into her limbs as she jumped around her room a bit. Her supply list had arrived the day of the World Cup and she had set about packing up her trunk when Hermes had pecked on her window. He had flown off after she gave him a treat.

She sighed happily and went back to packing. Getting the Madame Malkin's box into her trunk was more difficult than imagined. It displaced her cauldron and her stacks of books, which made it impossible for the trunk to close. She swore under her breath and weighed the pros and cons of casting an Undetectable Extension Charm on the trunk. Would she really get expelled for _one little charm_?

She decided she wouldn't push her luck and tried squishing the large purple box. This worked and the trunk shut with the help of Hazel's ass on the lid. A small knock sounded at her door and she answered it to find her dad standing there, his brown hair ruffled and his reading glasses a bit askew.

He cleared his throat, "Hazel, can I talk to you about something?"

"Yeah, sure Dad." She opened the door further and let him into her room, where he sat on her bed and ran a hand through his hair like he always did when he was nervous about something.

"I know this summer didn't get off to a good start and things were…rocky when I told you about Julia so I wanted to tell you about this before you headed back to school." He explained and it was Hazel's turn to be nervous. Did he and Julia break up while she was away? He had been avoiding his girlfriend's calls recently and they hadn't been on any dates in a few weeks. She really hoped that wasn't the case because she had come to really like Julia.

"What is it, Dad?" she asked, sitting next to him and searching his face for any clues.

He sighed and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small black ring box and passing it to Hazel.

"I want to ask Julia to marry me." He looked at his daughter and tried to gauge her reaction. From the way her face brightened he assumed that she was excited about it.

"Really?! Dad, that's fantastic!" she practically shouted, completely unable to contain her excitement. "How're you going to do it?"

"I don't know yet. It's not like I've done this sort of thing before…" he muttered, his lips pulling back into a half-smile.

Hazel was confused, "Surely you proposed to Mum?"

Daniel shook his head, his smile growing wider at the memory, "No. That wasn't so much a proposal as your mum dragging me out of bed at five in the morning and catching a train to Cardiff."

"Not exactly subtle, was she?" Hazel laughed, perfectly able to picture her mother doing such a thing.

"No, she was not." Daniel let the memory settle before clearing his throat again, "But I digress. Love, I don't feel comfortable asking Julia to marry me without telling her about…you."

Hazel nodded, "That's understandable. I suppose you want me to tell her before I go off to school?"

"We can both tell her. How about we all go to Tarantella's on Monday night for dinner? Sort of a going away party the night before you head back?"

"So after we tell her you'll propose then and there? Or will that bit come later?"

"I think it'll come later. Give her time to digest the information."

"Okay, but you _must_ write me the second she says yes!"

"What makes you think you'll say yes?" Daniel smirked.

"Come on, Dad. She's nuts about you. She'd be daft to say anything but yes." She nudged her father with her elbow. He wrapped an arm around her and kissed her forehead.

"Thanks, love. I needed that." He said, holding his daughter against his chest, "Oi, where have Fred and George been lately? Thought I'd see more of them after those first few visits."

She pulled out of her dad's embrace, "Oh, they erm…went traveling with their family. Fred said he'd stop by this weekend."

"Oh, brilliant. I wonder if they've come up with any new products since last time." Daniel stood and made his way to the door.

"Knowing the twins I don't doubt that they have. What's for dinner?" she asked, following him out of the room and into the kitchen.

"I don't know, what are you making?" She smirked and threw a tea towel at him as he reached for the phone and ordered take away from India Palace.

* * *

By the time Saturday rolled around Hazel was a nervous wreck. She had cleaned the apartment top to bottom, unpacked and repacked her Hogwarts trunk, alphabetized the CDs and VHS tapes multiple times to try and keep her mind occupied with something other than Fred's impending visit.

She had no idea what would happen when he tumbled through the fireplace, and she now sat on the sofa chewing the inside of her cheek and staring at said fireplace nervously. Watching television hadn't helped calm her nerves, neither had reading a book or turning on the radio and dancing around obnoxiously. She felt as if she had eaten a whole bar of chocolate and drank espresso, her whole body seemed to vibrate with anticipation.

"Oh bugger this." She said to herself, rising off of the couch and heading down the stairs. The small bell above the shop door tinkled as she entered, raising her father's attention from the computer on the back desk.

"He's not here yet?" he called as she buried herself in the stacks.

"Nope. Figured I would come down and help you out for a bit." She explained, picking up a dust rag and absentmindedly dusting a shelf.

"Yes, because I am obviously in dire need of your assistance." His tone told her that the shop had been relatively dead all day. She stopped dusting and moved back behind the desk with her father, resting her chin on her hand and sighing loudly.

"Slow day?"

"It is slower than a tortoise trying to outrun a glacier. In fact, I believe I am beginning to fossilize. That's how slow it is; fossil slow." He mumbled, looking over the last months' worth of figures on the computer.

"I know how that feels." She said. They stood behind the front desk of their shop silently for a few minutes until an unmistakable thud sounded above them. Daniel watched his daughter stand up straight and her face brighten before motioning for her to quit the shop.

Hazel ran out the door and into the stairwell. Fred was standing at the top, an adorably puzzled look on his face and a bundle of wildflowers in his left hand. Their eyes met and she took the stairs two at a time until she reached the top. They stood there not moving as each contemplated their next move.

Bill's advice had been to play it cool, but wasn't that what got them into this complicated mess? Despite what he had done with other girls in the past, Fred was growing sick of the games he'd been playing to try and win her over. He'd been pining for her for the better part of a year; now was his chance.

"Are those for me?" she asked shyly, looking at the flowers in his hand.

He held them up to his chest and smirked in his characteristically cocky way, "No, they're for your dad. I thought he and I really hit it off the last time I came round."

She hit his arm playfully, "Oh sod off."

His smirk grew to a smile, "Fine, I guess you can have them instead." He passed her the flowers and she buried her face in them. They smelled like the fields around the Burrow and she had no doubt that he had picked them himself.

"Hope you haven't been pining for my dad for too long. He's getting engaged soon." She explained, leading him into the flat.

"Damn! I knew I should've spoken up sooner!" he called after her as she went into the kitchen and found a vase for the wildflowers. He sat himself down on the couch and watched the kitchen door, "Tell him congrats for me when the time comes, eh?"

"It's not for a couple months yet. We have to tell her about me first." Hazel explained, coming back into the room and placing the small vase full of the delicate blooms on the coffee table in front of them.

"You'd better be careful, Hazel. You could get into trouble for that."

"Since when do you care about getting in trouble?"

"I don't care if _I_ get into trouble. I care if _you_ do. If you tell her, you're breaking the International Statute of Secrecy, and if things go wrong you're still underage so you can't Obliviate her…"

"Which is why I've got this," she pulled out a folded piece of parchment she had received via Apparating Owl that morning. She held it out to Fred and he unfolded it, reading carefully.

 _'To Whom it May Concern,_

 _Let it be known that Hazel Amelia Herrod of 21 Feasegate, York, England, has been given express permission from the Minister for Magic to perform the Obliviate charm on 31 August, 1994 if she should deem it necessary._

 _Any inquiries should be addressed to the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge._

 _Signed,_

 _Cornelius Fudge_

 _Minister for Magic'_

Fred's mouth twisted back into a smile as he read the words. "He really wants people to know that he's Minister for Magic, eh?"

"I know, it's a bit redundant."

"How did you get this?" he asked, handing it back to her gently. She pocketed it again, wanting to keep it close.

"My grandfather is very close to the Minister. He explained the situation and called in a favor. Fudge was more than happy to oblige." Hazel felt strange for bragging about her grandfather's connections. It was another one of the strange Heiress phenomenon that she had absolutely no experience with and had little desire to repeat.

"I thought you weren't too keen on Julia. At least, you weren't at the beginning of the summer." he changed the subject quickly, as he wasn't too keen on the Ministry in general. He found it helpful to know that Hazel had connections there, however tenuous they may be.

"She's grown on me since then. And my dad deserves to be happy."

"She makes him happy?"

"Yeah. She does. She's also given me advice on a few…sensitive situations this summer." Hazel looked at a certain water stain on the ceiling to avoid making eye contact with him. She sat facing him, with her left arm propped up on the back of the couch and her legs crossed in front of her.

"Sensitive situations? Like what?" Fred queried, hoping that the answer had something to do with him.

His hope was rewarded when she replied, "The whole you-me-Felix thing. She told me to rekindle my friendship with you and dump the Frenchie."

"So we are…just friends?"

She flicked her eyes over his maple ones and bit her lower lip, trying to come up with a response that wouldn't scare her.

"I think we need a refresher on what being 'just friends' means."

"Okay, who teaches that course at Hogwarts? Professors Flitwick and Sinistra?"

"Oh, God no! Thanks for that visual!" she said through laughter in a thoroughly disgusted tone.

"McGonagall and Dumbledore?" he prodded salaciously.

"Ugh!" she shut her eyes tight, as if that would help block the images from getting to her brain. It didn't.

"Snape and his many bottles of various viscous liquids?"

"Too far!" she shouted, clamping her hands over her ears and singing to block out his voice. He gently gripped her wrists and pulled them away from her ears, which stopped her singing.

She opened her eyes and found that he was much closer to her than he was a minute ago. So close that their breath mixed when they exhaled. So close that Hazel could smell his intoxicating scent. So close that he could see the fissures in her light blue irises that made her eyes look like fractured ice. He noticed her pupils dilate and a pink blush rose in her cheeks.

"I don't want to just be your friend, Hazel." He whispered. She could feel his words on her lips and her pulse quickened. He was so close to her and she realized exactly how much she had missed him. They started to close what little distance there was between them…

"Hazel, have you seen the ledger anywhere?" her father's voice called from the stairs. Hazel could hear his steps approaching and she shot off the couch and over to the mantle, where she pretended to be straightening a picture.

"Ah! Fred! Good to see you, lad!" Daniel greeted happily, clapping Fred on the shoulder just a bit too hard.

"Good to see you, Mr. Herrod. I hear congratulations will soon be in order." Fred replied congenially, standing up and shaking the older man's hand.

"Don't jinx it, Fred! He needs all the luck he can get!" Hazel teased from her spot by the fireplace.

"Oi! What happened to, 'of course she'll say yes, Dad, you've got nothing to worry about'?" Daniel mocked in a high-pitched whine that Hazel could only assume was a poor attempt to mimic her.

"I mean that fate has never been known for its kindness, and we've still got a very big bomb to drop on her. Let's not tempt fate by assuming anything." Hazel defended, crossing back to the couch. In reality, she was more nervous about telling Julia about Hogwarts than her saying yes. What if she didn't believe Hazel? What if she got scared and broke Daniel's heart? He didn't deserve that.

"Guess you're right. Have you seen that ledger?" Daniel asked airily, not wanting to remember how his stomach twisted with nerves every time he thought about what would happen on Monday night.

"You mean the one on your nightstand?"

"Yeah, that one. Thanks, kiddo." He mumbled, strolling over to his bedroom and grabbing the thick, leather-bound ledger and leaving the flat.

After he was sure Daniel was gone, Fred moved back to the couch. He and Hazel sat facing forward, both staring awkwardly at the fireplace with their hands in their laps for a minute until Hazel broke the silence by clearing her throat.

"So…where were we?" she asked shyly, looking at him from the corner of her eye. He adjusted his position and once again faced her. With one finger on her collarbone, he pushed her upper body against the back of the couch as his face moved closer to hers.

"I believe we were right…" he kissed her right temple, "About…" he kissed her left cheek, "Here." He hovered for a second before capturing her lips with his and was overjoyed when she kissed him back. She raised a hand and cupped his cheek to pull him closer while her other arm spun around his shoulders.

His lips were soft as the give of a peach on her mouth and her fingers traced his jawline before descending to his bare forearm, delicately tracing the defined muscles that lay beneath his skin. She could feel the goosebumps form under her touch and smiled against his mouth.

"Merlin, I've missed you." Fred uttered against her lips as his hands grasped at her honey colored curls.

"I missed you too." She pulled back, pecking his lips with hers, "Still think we need that refresher course?"

He snorted, "I think we flew past the 'just friends' part of our relationship months ago."

"I agree…So what now?"

"For now, I think we keep snogging." He smiled in his impish way and Hazel couldn't help but pull him back to her.

They came up for air every so often, but otherwise spent the entire afternoon wrapped up in each other. Kissing, talking, touching, as if trying to memorize all of one another. She wanted the day full of kisses and jokes to last forever but, unfortunately, it could not. The sun sank lower in the sky despite Hazel's silent prayers for it to stay still. Alas, her father's shop would be closing soon and he would be none too pleased to come upstairs to find his daughter pinned between the sofa and a lanky redhead.

She bid Fred farewell and promised to see him on the train the following Tuesday as he stepped into the fireplace.

"If not sooner, love." He winked as he took some Floo Powder from the pot and disappeared in a flourish of green flame and smoke.

She couldn't contain her smile and went into the loo to splash some water on her face. Her face was flushed and her lips were slightly swollen from the afternoon spent kissing Fred. Her hair was a ruffled mess and resembled a style that Veronica would teasingly call "sex hair" but Hazel didn't care.

* * *

 **Sex hair don't care. Review!**


	21. The Big Question

**Chapter 21! Here it goes!**

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* * *

Hazel was all dolled up and sitting in a booth across from her father and Julia. They had just ordered their food and Hazel was practically giddy with excitement for her fettuccine alfredo. Tarantella's was a small basement restaurant owned by a pair of Italian sisters and was Hazel and Daniel's favorite place to go for a fancy night out.

Daniel sighed and shot a pointed look at Hazel, flicking his eyes over to Julia, who was looking around at the exposed brick walls.

Hazel took the hint and cleared her throat. "So Julia, this dinner is meant to be a bon voyage party of sorts, right?"

Julia's gaze fixed on Hazel and she smiled congenially, "Of course. You start your sixth year at Bradley's Academy tomorrow! With nine o-levels no less! We couldn't be more proud of you!"

Hazel saw her father smile at the "we" before she continued with, `"Actually, there is no Bradley's Academy. It doesn't exist."

Julia's brow furrowed and she tilted her head to the side like a confused puppy. "W-what? Then where are you going tomorrow?"

Hazel sighed, took a sip of her Coke, and sighed again. "I attend Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am a witch."

Julia's face was blank, but she busted out laughing. "Come on, Hazel, I know you can be a little temperamental sometimes but..." She grabbed her wine glass and took a rather large gulp.

"It's no joke, Julia. Hazel's mother was a witch, her grandmother is a witch and her grandfather is a – " Daniel started to explain and Julia searched his face.

"A warlock?" Julia said dryly. Hazel could see the fear creeping into her eyes and desperately hoped she wouldn't cause a scene. She slipped a hand into her clutch and made sure the note from the Minister was still there, just in case. She also wrapped her fingers around her wand delicately.

"Wizard, actually." She corrected and Julia's eyes snapped back to her.

"So…what does that mean? Do you cast spells on your enemies and curse people and stuff?"

"It's a bit more complicated than that, but spells and charms and potions are all part of it." Hazel nodded. "Another part is that you must never tell anyone. Only Muggle parents of witches and wizards are allowed to know. The whole wizarding community is very secretive and – "

"Wait, did you say _parents_?" Julia asked.

 _Shit,_ Hazel thought as she gave her father a panicked look. He looked back at her and nodded and reached for Julia's hands.

"Right well…I was hoping to do this later, give you some time to digest this new information but such as it is…" Daniel turned toward Julia and took her hands in his, looking her straight in the eye.

"Julia, when Laurel died I thought I would never find another woman who made me feel like I was young and invincible and in love. And when Steve set us up last year, I felt something inside me that I hadn't felt in years. The way you made me feel like Superman when you looked at me and laughed at my horrific jokes. The way you light my soul aflame with your smile. How, when I'm with you time stands perfectly still and at the same time seems to fly by because I am just a man…ridiculously in love with a beautiful woman. I guess, what I am trying to say is…" Daniel moved to the floor beside the table and lowered himself onto one knee, holding the ring box out in front of him.

"Julia Caroline Jackson, will you marry me?"

The restaurant grew silent around them as Daniel's words hung in the air. The women at the table both looked at him, completely breathless. Julia's hands went to her mouth and tears sprung into her eyes as she, mercifully and miraculously, nodded.

"Yes," she croaked out, "Yes, Daniel, I will marry you!" she scooted out of the booth and hugged Daniel tightly as he rose to his feet. Hazel jumped up as well and hugged them both. They all had tears streaming down their faces, and Julia was blubbering as Daniel slipped the ring on her finger (a beautiful circle-cut amethyst surrounded by a halo of diamonds, as Hazel distinctly remembered Julia mentioning she didn't like diamonds all that much and her favorite color was purple) and the restaurant clapped politely. Hazel was blissfully happy, but she knew that only paled in comparison to what her father and Julia were feeling.

Their food arrived shortly after, along with a complimentary bottle of champagne courtesy of the Tarantella sisters. Hazel ate quickly while she and Julia started gabbing about dates and dresses and other things that pop into women's minds when weddings get involved.

"You'll be a bridesmaid, of course." Julia said to Hazel, who smiled broadly.

"I'd be honored."

"And it'll have to be on one of your school breaks…when are those, exactly?"

"Same as normal school. Christmas, Easter, Summer break. Although I don't think four months is enough time to plan a wedding." She said, finishing the last bite of fettuccine and leaning back in her chair.

"I've always fancied a summer wedding. What do you think, Daniel?" Julia turned her head to her new fiancé and smiled. He couldn't help but smile back.

"I like summer." He contributed unhelpfully.

"Well…I've got to catch the train rather early tomorrow, so I will leave you two lovebirds alone." Hazel said, sliding out of the booth. Despite their protestations, she insisted. It was getting late and she had to catch the train to London at seven-thirty the next morning. She would've taken the Floo Network there, but the fireplace had been sealed that morning.

On her walk home the sky opened up and rain came pouring down on her. Instead of running to the nearest shop awning to keep dry, she relished the feeling of the cool rain on her skin. Her father was engaged, she was going back to Hogwarts tomorrow, and she and Fred were finally smoothed out. He had visited yesterday for an all-too-brief amount of time in which they had decided they were officially together, but the would keep it between the two of them for now. Well, except for George.

Everything felt so right as Hazel tilted her head back and held her arms out to embrace the cascading droplets.

"Hazel! What're you doing you daft girl!?" her grandfather' voice echoed through the empty side street and Hazel jumped. He was using the Umbrella charm she had taught him and had strode over to her until she was underneath it.

"Just enjoying the rain. Might I ask what you're doing here?"

"There's another guest at the Manor that your gran and I thought you'd like to see before you head back to school."

" _Now?_ Gramp, I've got an early train to catch tomorrow!" she whined, her eyes looking in the direction of her flat longingly.

"It won't take but a minute, you'll be sorry if you miss him!" He teased, grabbing her hand and apparating them back to the barn at Nithercott Manor. Outside the city, the wind howled and Hazel could hear the rain assaulting the ancient barn that was no doubt only still standing by the grace of magic.

"Do you know where we are?" Angus asked his granddaughter excitedly.

"Of course. We're in the distillery." She answered, knocking on one of the large copper stills to her left. She heard a knocking come from within the pot and yelped, jumping back from it as if it had suddenly lit on fire. Angus laughed and, with a graceful wave of his wand, opened the side door of the still. Instead of the flood of grain spirit that she expected to come out of it, a human figure emerged wearing the same brown battered coat he had been the last time Hazel had seen him.

"Sirius!" she shouted, throwing her arms around his neck once he'd reached his full height. He smelled like he'd had a bath within the last week or so and his prisoner's uniform was gone, replaced by some of her Uncle Leonard's clothing. His hair was less matted, but still long and wild. Hazel thought she'd faint as immense relief flooded her body.

"I'm so sorry Sirius!" she said, burying her head in his nearly sunken chest, which rumbled as he chuckled.

"For what, dear girl?" he stroked her honey-colored hair and looked down into her big blue eyes when she looked up at him, tears brimming her eyes. Except for the eyes, Sirius could've sworn he was holding Laurel after her break-up with Remus again.

"I should've brought you Pettigrew when you first asked me to. Then your name would be clear and you wouldn't have to live life on the run and – " she said, her words coming out as one long declaration. Sirius interrupted her with a chuckle and pulled her head back to his chest again, holding her tightly.

"Hush now, that's all in the past. Besides, I've got old Uncle Angus to look after me for a bit."

Angus cleared his throat warningly, not wanting his nephew to say too much.

"Right, well, the less you know the better. I just wanted to see you before you went back to school. To let you know I was alright." He gently disentangled himself from Hazel, who was wiping a few tears away.

"Thank you. I really needed that, seeing as how you didn't bother to write all summer." She added with a purposeful bitterness in her voice.

"I know and I'm sorry, I've tried to keep outside contact limited. I'm still a wanted man after all."

"Will you promise to write me at school this year? If not I'll spend the whole time worried sick." She nearly begged.

"Of course I will. Not all the time, mind, but I _will_ write." He promised as Angus pulled his pocket watch out of his coat pocket and cleared his throat again.

"Hazel dear, you've got a train to catch in the morning." He said with an edge to his voice. If Sirius hadn't begged Renatta for the meeting, Angus never would've relented. He didn't want his granddaughter put in the same danger they had been in since Sirius had arrived nearly a month prior. However, his wife had finally convinced him of it after receiving a letter from Dumbledore detailing how Hazel had taken care of Sirius the previous school year.

"Right. You should be going." Sirius relented sadly. He was going to miss her, as he had since their last fight in the Shrieking Shack.

Hazel dove into his arms again, squeezing his emaciated frame before reluctantly letting him go and, with one more promise from him to write, disapparating with Angus. With a long sigh, Sirius climbed back into the still and closed the hatch, wishing more than anything that she could've stayed longer.

Hazel, much like her mother, had a certain lightness about her that had always been able to lift Sirius's spirits. It was why he and Laurel had been as close as siblings during their time at Hogwarts, perhaps even closer. And, much in the same way Harry reminded him of James, Hazel gave him the feeling of being close to Laurel, his sister, again.

He would most definitely write to Hazel. He couldn't let his niece down.

* * *

Hazel arrived at King's Cross an hour early for the Hogwarts Express, so she decided to get a more substantial breakfast than the piece of buttered toast she'd managed to scarf down at home that morning. She crossed the barrier onto Platform 9 ¾ and saw that the scarlet red steam engine was already there and waiting. While finding a compartment she briefly wondered if the train stayed in London all summer, or if it was transported elsewhere. After letting Leia out of her travel basket and making sure the door was firmly closed, she dashed off of the platform and to a pasty stand, where she ordered a bap and coffee. She sat at a table and calmed herself after a few hectic hours of travel.

Making her way back toward the train with her fresh cup of coffee she noticed a group of redheads, along with one brunette and a black-haired boy, all rushing toward the platform. Smiling to herself she crept up behind the two lankiest members of the group and poked each one on the hip. They jumped and looked first to each other, but out of the corners of their eyes noticed Hazel. Fred's eyes lit up considerably, and George's face broke into a smile.

"You tricky minx." George poked her back.

"Might've known you were here early." Fred said, a slight accusatory tone in his voice.

"I missed you tossers as well." She joked, pulling them both into a group hug.

"Fred, George! Hurry up! Oh, Hazel dear, I didn't see you there." Molly Weasley said, giving Hazel her patented flustered-but-kind smile.

"Hello Mrs. Weasley. Good summer?" she asked, Molly just burst out laughing.

"It was one of the more stressful ones, I'm afraid," the older woman admitted, glaring at her two sons. "No thanks to these two."

"C'mon, Mum…" George started

"We could've been much worse." Fred continued, an evil grin on his face. Molly looked as if she wanted to throw a cutting remark their way, but stopped herself and smiled politely instead.

"I'm sure. Now, through the barrier!" she said through her teeth before walking briskly over to Ginny to make sure she had everything.

"What was that all about?" Hazel asked the twins.

Fred threw an arm around her shoulders casually, pushing his cart with one hand as he led her through the barrier. "Oh, Mum's been going a bit easy on us since the World Cup. She got all worked up about the last thing she said to us and if anything had happened to us that would've been terrible."

"What did she say to you?" Hazel was curious as she congregated with the Weasley children and Harry and Hermione to await Mrs. Weasley's goodbyes.

"She was on our case about only getting six O.W.L.s." George explained simply.

"You each only got six O.W.L.s?"

Fred scoffed, "No, of course not."

"We each only got three."

Hazel balked at the idea, but she was sure they'd gotten enough grief from their family. After all, Bill and Percy had both gotten all twelve O.W.L.s, and Charlie had gotten in the double digits (according to Bill). At that moment, Mrs. Weasley bustled over with Ginny and said her goodbyes to all of the children under her care and Hazel before they got onto the train.

Instead of reproaching them for their scores, Hazel took this opportunity to boast a bit as she led them to the compartment her things were in.

"It seems I got triple each of your O.W.L.s. I got nine." She said, sitting down and having Leia immediately curl up in her lap.

"Well that's bloody fantastic for you, but think of all the free time we're going to have!" George said excitedly.

"All the time in the world for mischief and mayhem!" Fred elaborated, sitting next to her and replacing his arm around her shoulders. She tried to swallow the blush she felt creeping up her neck and the desire to wrap her arms around him and pull him ever closer.

"I don't think McGonagall is going to allow that. Which O. did you get?"

"We both got Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charms. Georgie here got Herbology." Fred explained.

"And Freddie got Transfiguration." George finished. The train's whistle blew and the station lurched into motion outside the window.

"Neither of you got Potions?"

"Nope."

"Even after hours of helping me revise for it?" she asked incredulously.

"Which ones did you get, Hazel?" George abruptly switched the direction of the conversation.

"Well, I took ten of them and the only one I failed was History of Magic." She really didn't want to repeat the list of the one she'd passed for the hundredth time.

"Are you going to take all nine?"

"God no. I'm dropping Ancient Runes, Care of Magical Creatures, and Muggle Studies. That'll leave me with six classes. Or, two more than you lazy sods put together." She smirked, petting her cat that purred contentedly on her lap.

"Hey, any idea why we need dress robes for this year?" Fred changed the subject entirely, as he was sick of discussing academics.

"Not a clue. All I know is that my gran gave me a box from Madame Malkins that won't open until December. Probably a ball or something." Hazel dismissed. Fred was about to ask something else when the door slid open and Veronica heaved her trunk dramatically onto the rack above their heads.

"You will not _believe_ what I've heard about this year!" she said, dropping down next to George. They exchanged a glance and she scooted away from him a bit, but remained where she was.

"What have you heard?" Fred asked nervously, taking his arm back from Hazel's shoulders.

Veronica leaned forward excitedly, "There's going to be some sort of inter-school tournament. I don't know al the details, but rumor has it that there's money and eternal glory involved. And obviously there's going to be a ball."

With the last sentence she leaned back, nonchalantly inspecting her manicure from behind her glasses.

"You're sure?" George queried.

"Why else would boys need dress robes and girl need gowns?" Veronica reasoned with a shrug.

"Do you know which other schools will be there?" Hazel asked, her thoughts going to Felix.

"No, but I've got my hunches." Veronica shot Hazel a salacious look before continuing, "By the way, Hazel, you never finished telling me about what happened with you and the Frenchman before the World Cup."

Hazel flushed at the memory and quickly glanced over at Fred, who had tensed slightly at the mention of Felix.

"Oh, you know. Nothing much." She said noncommittally, feeling Veronica's brown eyes bore into her.

"No way. You are not getting out of it that easily! I need details!"

"What's got your knickers in a twist, Ronnie?" George asked. Veronica glared daggers at him for using the nickname that she hated most of all.

"It's been a long, dry summer," she said, anger evident in her tone, "And if you expect to keep those kidney beans you call testicles, _never_ call me Ronnie again." Her face softened as she turned back to Hazel and smiled. "So, spill. How far did you and the Frenchman get?"

Hazel's mouth hung open as she tried to find a lie to spare Fred's feelings. He was noticeably tense at her side now, his hands twitching and his eyes glaring at the floor.

"Erm…We got…handsy?" she admitted, but Veronica could tell it wasn't the whole truth.

"You went all the way with him!" she exclaimed, seeing the guilt in Hazel's eyes.

"No! Not _all_ the way!"

Veronica's face cracked into a wide smile as she realized what Hazel meant. Their eyes connected and Veronica could see the guilt and shame in her best friend's eyes.

"You didn't!"

Hazel only nodded grudgingly, turning bright pink.

"Didn't what?" Angelina asked as she entered the compartment and sat next to Fred.

"Hazel gave the handsome French bloke a blowjob!" Veronica burst out way too excitedly. Hazel sunk down in her seat, deeply embarrassed as she looked out the window.

"Hazel! How could you?!" Angelina shouted, clearly very scandalized.

"Well if it helps, it was…reciprocated!" Hazel blurted before clamping her hand over her mouth, her entire face red as a tomato and her eyes wide as saucers. George had a devious grin on his face as he leaned back.

"Atta girl, Herrod." He said smugly. Fred, who was now almost visibly shaking with anger, excused himself as casually as possible.

"Where're you going?" Veronica interrogated, stopping Fred by standing in front of the door. He reached up into his trunk and extracted his uniform.

"I'm changing." He muttered, pushing the gossip aside and striding down to the changing car. Hazel watched him go sadly and thought to herself, _Shit. Now I've gone ruined everything again._

"Hazel! Earth to Hazel!" Angelina said, snapping her fingers in front of her face. Hazel blinked and brought her beautiful friend's face back into focus.

"What?"

"We asked you how it was!" Veronica gushed, her eyes fixed intently on Hazel.

"Oh…erm…it was good. Weird. Have to watch the gag reflex and so on…you know what, I'm going to change too." She said quickly, removing her uniform from her trunk and going after Fred.

He wasn't in the changing car any more, so she continued searching for him in the other cars. Eventually she found him in a compartment with Lee, Alicia, and fellow sixth years Benjamin Russell, and his girlfriend, Elfrida Twonk, both members of Ravenclaw house.

She entered the compartment and, after greeting her classmates, asked Fred to come into the hall with her. He obliged unhappily, not really wanting to hear her explanations.

"So?" he asked as they came to a stop down the hall, crossing his arms in front of his well-formed chest, his bundle of street clothes dangling from one of his hands.

"Look, it was either spare your feelings and lie, which Veronica would've known immediately and pestered me until I blew our secret, or tell the truth and sacrifice your feelings." She explained quickly, having thought of the argument while searching for him.

He was silent, glaring angrily at the carpet for a minute before moving his maple eyes to hers. "When?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean when did you orally satisfy the Frenchman?"

She sighed, "After the storm-out. Before I met Bill. Before the World Cup and before I wrote you. I meant what I said in that letter, Fred, I want _you_. Not him, _you."_ She prodded him in the chest.

He looked down at the sincerity on her face and smiled. "When?"

"I just told you, you idiot! Before the World-" she said, but he interrupted her.

"Not that." He interrupted. He dropped his arms and stepped closer to her with an arrogant smirk on his face, "When do you want me?"

She paused and smiled stupidly, playfully shoving his shoulder away. "Oh, shut up."

He grabbed her hand and led her to the changing carriage, looking over each shoulder to make sure no one was watching before shoving her into a stall and closing and locking the door. They tossed their bundles of street clothes to the floor and wrapped their arms around each other in the warm embrace they had both been craving since he had caught sight of her earlier that day.

"Hi." He muttered into her hair. She must've gotten a new shampoo because oranges, along with the vanilla and honey, replaced the strawberry smell.

"Hi." She replied, her voice muffled by his freshly laundered robe that did next to nothing to hide his natural musky, sandalwood scent.

He broke the hug and cupped her chin, bringing his lips to hers in a gentle kiss that slowly lit her on fire. She gripped his jumper and pulled him closer. He used the momentum to press her against the wall, one hand in her hair and one on her elbow. His lips started their devilish descent and, although her body was screaming for him to continue, she stopped him.

"Fred, wait!" she whispered urgently. He came back up, placing light kisses all over her face and neck.

"What?" he asked, his warm, soft lips tracking around hers and making it very difficult for her to focus, but she had to make her feelings known.

"I don't want this to go too fast. After last year and this summer…I just want to wait for the full-on shag for a while." She said quickly, as if ripping off a plaster. Fred's eyes met hers and he placed a hand on either side of her face, looking her straight in the eye.

"I think that's fine. We can wait as long as you like, Hazel," he kissed her forehead gently and towed her into his chest again. God, how she loved being there, wrapped in his strong arms and hearing his heart thudding rhythmically in his chest. It made everything so much more real. She had someone who cared about her, who thought about her when she wasn't around, and this made her feel incredibly…loved. To feel loved by someone who wasn't family made her feel lighter than air and incredibly grounded at the same time. She knew what her father had been talking about when he'd proposed to Julia.

She pulled away from him, and smiled up at him. "You are too good for me, Fred Weasley." He kissed her suddenly and pulled back a bit, resting his forehead on hers and staring into her eyes with a strange sort of intensity that only served to assure her of the conviction of his next statement.

"If you ever say that again, Hazel Herrod, I will hex you from here to eternity."

* * *

 **How much longer until one of them screws this up? Find out next time!**


	22. First Day Back

**Hello everyone! So sorry for the lack of updating but I was traveling this last weekend and didn't bring my computer with me! However, I am staying awake way later than I should be just so I can post this! I hope it's worth the wait!**

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 **Truly, all of those listed here (and those who have Favorited/Reviewed/Followed in the past, hell, even you silent ones out there) are the reason I am up so late when I have to be at the work in the morning. I love all of you strangers on the internet who happen to have stumbled across my meager ramblings! Thank you so so much!**

 **Enjoy Chapter 22!**

* * *

Everyone was buzzing after the Welcome Dinner and the announcement of the Triwizard Tournament. Hazel was only mildly excited, as it would provide an alternative to Quidditch, but Veronica was positively beside herself. Since her birthday was in a few weeks she would be seventeen before the deadline and therefore eligible to enter the competition.

"Do you think I should enter, Hazel? I mean, eternal glory _and_ a thousand galleons! I'd put it in savings, of course, probably for a flat after graduation or maybe a crazy mad shopping spree in London! This is so exciting, Hazel! Do you think you'll enter?" Veronica babbled as they climbed the stairs toward the Gryffindor common room.

"No. My birthday is in November, remember? Couldn't if I wanted to, which I don't." she said snippily. She could already tell that the Tournament would be all anyone would talk of for the next few weeks, and she was already sick of it.

"Oh, right, my mistake. Why are you so irritable all of a sudden?" Veronica queried, noting her friend's grimly set brow and vacant look in her eyes.

In truth, Hazel was thinking about Felix. When Dumbledore had announced that students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang would be joining them in a few weeks her heart had sunk into her stomach. She hoped the Felix wouldn't be among them, but a nagging voice in the back of her mind told her that he would be.

"No reason. I'm just tired is all." She dismissed as they approached the Fat Lady. "Mimbulus Mimbletonia." She muttered and the portrait swung open.

As she entered the common room her tension seemed to melt away. The warm fire, the light chatter of her housemates, and the smell of warm vanilla calmed her. However much she loved her flat, the common room welcomed her back with open arms. It was her home for the large part of the year, and after the summer she'd had it was nice to get back to the familiar.

She sat down on a couch in front of the fire and Veronica sat next to her, still babbling about the Tournament. George and Lee came in and sat in the neighboring chairs while Fred sat on the couch next to Hazel, leaning away from her over the arm so as to continue the conversation the troublesome trio had been having since the Great Hall.

"It's just not bloody fair!" Lee lamented for the hundredth time in the last fifteen minutes.

"Yeah, I mean we're practically seventeen as it is!" George argued, as if they weren't all in consensus with each other.

"I'm going to enter." Veronica said, a haughty tone in her voice. The three boys glared at her practically green with envy.

"Oh for the sake of Merlin's saggy ballsack!" Hazel gasped, rising to her feet and storming up the stairs to the sixth-year dorms. They looked exactly like the fifth-year dorms, but were on a higher floor in the tower. She slammed the door and set about unpacking her trunk into the wardrobe next to her bed.

Leia hopped up on the bed and chirped brightly. Hazel looked over to the brown tabby cat and scratched under her chin they way they both liked. One constant in her life was this cat. Leia had been a great comfort in Hazel's first few weeks at Hogwarts, when she would often find herself crying homesick tears until she fell asleep. Leia, who'd been a tiny kitten back then, had curled up on Hazel's pillow and purred soothingly and Hazel often considered the cat one of her first friends at school. While students were encouraged to bring along "animal companions", Hazel could never decide if Leia was a bit of home that she brought to Hogwarts or a bit of Hogwarts that she brought home. She didn't really care either way.

She looked into her almost empty trunk and stashed the Madame Malkin's box under her bed before extracting a stack of CDs she'd brought with and sitting on her bed.

As a Muggle culture hound, her months at Hogwarts without access to such commonplace things like Muggle music had grown intolerable. She'd brought the CDs to hopefully figure out a charm to allow them to play at Hogwarts without the use of electricity.

She opened one of them and levitated it in front of her face, watching it slowly rotate while she ruminated about how to get the plastic disc to play its music. The metallic disc kept rotating in a mesmerizing way for so long that she lost her train of thought, snapping back to reality when Angelina entered the dorms.

"What've you got there, Hazel?" she asked, crossing to her bed and loosening her tie.

"A CD. It's a Muggle thing that plays music." Hazel explained briefly, her eyes still on the disc.

"Then why isn't it playing now?"

"It needs to be put in some sort of player first. The player reads the information off the disc and transmits it as sound through an amplification device. Since all of those things rely on electricity they won't work at Hogwarts. I'm trying to figure out a way to play the CDs without a player. A charm or something…maybe I need to transfigure it first?" she mused to herself, picking the CD out of the air and turning it over in her hands.

"Can't you just point your wand at it and make it happen?"

"You know as well as I do that won't work. Charm theory is much more complicated and nuanced than point-and-shoot."

"And from what I've heard about you Miss Makes-Up-Charms-At-The-Drop-Of-A-Hat, it should be no problem."

"Are you just fluffing my ego or do you want something?" Hazel was getting irritable. She'd hoped for at least an hour alone to work on the charm, but Angelina had ruined that particular hope.

Angelina crossed to Hazel's bed and gripped one of the posts, hiding behind it shyly. "Actually, now that you ask…"

"Yes?"

"I was wondering if you knew whether or not Fred was seeing anyone?" Angelina's brown eyes flicked over the bed nervously as Hazel tried to keep her jaw from unhinging and falling to the floor.

"Erm…Well, no, I…don't know that. Why-why would I?" she stammered, putting the CD back into its case with shaking hands. Was it possible that Angelina fancied Fred?

"You and the twins are so close, I just thought you'd know, or at least have some kind of idea." Angelina picked at the finish of Hazel's bed posts, avoiding eye contact.

"D-do you fancy Fred?"

A blush rose in her ebony cheeks and a goofy smile appeared on her face, "Yes, I think I do. I thought about him all summer and when I saw him at dinner…it's like he got more handsome over break, yeah? He's got a new air of confidence that's just bewitching." Angelina rambled. Hazel could see that she was smitten.

It felt like Hazel had smashed into a brick wall at top speed. Suddenly, the room became very hot and her mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton. For the sake of her friend she played it cool and promised not to tell anyone as she made a beeline back down to the common room, which she found to be just as stifling as the dorm so she continued out the portrait hole and into the corridor.

She closed her eyes and leaned against the wall between two suits of armor a ways down the hall so as not to be seen. She let her head fall back as she tried to digest the information that she'd just received. Guilt crashed over her like a wave for lying to Angelina; she knew perfectly well that Fred was seeing someone. Angelina was one of her closest friends, she should have just been honest with her and sworn her to secrecy. But Angelina wasn't one to moon over boys; she was usually preoccupied with Quidditch or classes. As far as Hazel knew, Angelina had never had a boyfriend. Her interest in Fred meant too much for Hazel to dash her hopes so soon.

"What're you doing out here all alone?" a familiar voice echoed through the hall and she smiled, pushing herself off the wall.

"Just needed some air. I forgot how crowded the tower could feel sometimes." She half-lied, striding toward Fred and curling into his outstretched arms. She felt safe there.

"You looked like you'd just seen a ghost. Was Nearly Headless Nick giving you trouble? Do I need to challenge him to fisticuffs?" he joked and all of her tension dissipated. He had that effect on her.

She chuckled and shook her head, "Thank you for the offer, but I think trying to punch a ghost would be a mite difficult."

"I'd still give it a go. Defend your honor and such." He smirked cockishly. She smiled up at him and lifted her to her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek, but at the last second he turned his head and planted his lips on hers, kissing her as feverishly as he'd wanted to since dinner.

"You know, Filch is headed this way." He said against her mouth a few minutes later.

"I don't want to go back just yet." She groaned. She felt him smile as he backed away, entwining his fingers in hers.

"I know somewhere we can go." He led her down the corridor and two flights of stairs later they ducked behind a tapestry of Willis the Wanderer on one of his many wanderings. There was a small door hidden behind it and, with a flick of his wand, Fred opened it to reveal a small living space. It looked like a small studio apartment, with a kitchenette and a bed, with room between for the couch and coffee table. Some half-full bookshelves lined the walls and the door opposite them, Hazel supposed, led to the loo.

"What is this place?" Hazel asked as Fred shut the door behind them and cast a Mufflatio charm.

"We think it's an abandoned professor's quarters. Never were able to figure it out, but it's come in handy when our pranks run late." Fred explained. Because of course Fred and George would have a secret hideout for such occasions, she thought.

She looked pointedly at the bed, "And what _exactly_ did you bring me here for?"

He held his hands up innocently, "I meant what I said on the train. You said you didn't want to go back to the common room and this was the first place I thought to bring you." He sat on the far end of the couch and spreading his arms across the arm and the back.

They were silent a moment more before she moved toward him, occupying the space under his right arm.

"So, how was the rest of your summer?" she asked.

"Frightfully dull. Worked on some new product ideas with George, but that's about all worth mentioning."

"Oh yeah, I've been meaning to talk to you about that."

"What about it?"

"Are you going to market to girls at all or will this be a he-man-woman-hater sort of shop?" She asked casually.

"Hadn't really thought of that. But now that you mention it, it could be helpful to expand our market…why, do you have any ideas on what girls would want at a joke shop?"

"Of course I do. Keep in mind that girls can be just as nasty and vindictive as boys can be. And they can hold grudges for _much_ longer."

"Like you and Allegra?" he asked innocently, twirling a honey-colored curl around his finger.

She paused before answering, "That's not a grudge. That was the end of a friendship." She said quietly, snuggling a bit closer to him. "But the idea is... say some bint steals your boyfriend,"

"I hate when that happens." He interjected.

"I know you do…instead of confronting her right away why not plant some prank makeup on her sink which makes her break out in boils? Or she starts spreading a nasty rumor. Give her a breath mint that's laced with truth serum and get her to admit it was a lie and perhaps have her spill some of her own secrets. Or she tells the professor that you've snuck out of bounds? Switch her shampoo so that her hair is dyed electric puce for a month. Revenge, pure and simple."

Fred sat up, which forced her to sit up too. He faced her and grabbed her face, kissing her briefly before pulling away.

"Hazel, you're a genius! Blimey, all we came up with was love potions…"

"Because all girls care about are _boys_?" Hazel said in a tone of mock offense. "If you want to market to girls, market it as low-key, high-reward revenge. It's not just about pink and love potions and pimple vanishers."

"Do me a favor, Hazel?" he asked and she nodded, "Remind me to never cross you."

"Oh don't worry. You won't."

"Or else?" he smirked.

"Or else." She leaned in and kissed him. He kissed her back and, soon enough, was on top of her.

They kissed slowly, dreamily, trying to savor the stolen moment before they would have to leave and go back to the common room. She ran her hands through his silky red hair, enjoying how long he'd let it get over the last year. His fingers brushed her side and traveled over her hip and down to her leg, where he traced the lower hem of her skirt flirtatiously. She wanted his hand to venture further, and there was a bed right there, but she stopped herself from encouraging him. Instead, she grabbed his hand and entwined it with hers, the palm-to-palm contact surprisingly intimate.

Before long the bells in the clock tower tolled eleven and they reluctantly ran back to the common room to avoid getting caught, but not without a few detours on the way.

* * *

The next morning, amid the class schedules and trying to eat, the post came. An albino eagle owl swooped down in front of Hazel and pompously dropped a letter next to her breakfast plate. She fed it some bits of bacon before it went on its way, taking off silently. She recognized the handwriting on the letter and her stomach sunk as yet another owl that she recognized as Reginald, one of her grandparents' parliament, dropped a letter on her plate and took off again. Reginald was a bit of a snob that way.

"What's that then?" Fred asked innocently, figuring the owl was one of her grandparents.

"Nothing. Just a few letters from home." She dismissed quickly, shoving the letters in her bag for later. Truthfully, she didn't want to read whatever Felix had to say. Especially not in front of Fred. Knowing herself, however, curiosity would eventually get the better of her. The letter Reginald had carried was unmarked, but she had a suspicion of whom it had come from.

"Oh, man! We've got Moody first!" George exclaimed, his eyes bugging out of his head.

"Is that a good thing?" Angelina queried.

"You bloody well bet it is! He's supposed to be mad as a Red Cap these days! Class should be a helluva ride." He elaborated excitedly, slapping the table.

"And we've got him first! Wicked!" Fred and George high-fived over the table. Hazel just rolled her eyes and excused herself, claiming she had forgotten her textbook.

"I'll come with you." Fred offered, starting to rise.

"No, no, I can go by myself." She put a hand on his shoulder to stop him and he sat back down. In reality, she simply wanted to be alone to read the letter from Felix. It seemed to be burning a hole in the pocket of her robe. On her way out she rather violently ran into a sixth-year Slytherin named Caliban Parkes, which ended with her nearly falling back onto her ass.

"Watch it, groupie." He snapped as he passed. Hazel ran out of the Great Hall and clenched her jaw, willing the tears away. They were partly from pain, partly from slight humiliation. She'd earned the "groupie" nickname by sleeping with Oliver, thus becoming one of the many Quidditch groupies that hung around the various teams for a quick lay. None of her friends thought she'd deserved the moniker, but she _had_ slept with Oliver twice with no strings attached. By the end of the year the nickname had petered out, but there were still some recurrences much like the one she'd experienced.

She found a shady corner in the Transfiguration courtyard and pulled Felix's letter out of the pocket, unfastening the seal.

 _'Dear Hazel,_

 _By now you've probably heard about the Triwizard Tournament and that some students from Beauxbatons will be joining you at Hogwarts in a month or so. I am writing to tell you that I will be among those students._

 _With the way things were left between us at your grandparents, I wasn't sure you would actually want me to write you. I really do not know what you think of me, but I apologize if I did anything untoward this summer. I sincerely hope that we can be friends, especially since we will most likely seeing each other often this year. Maybe we can go to that village you mentioned? Pig's Beer? It always sounded like such fun when you talked about it._

She turned to the second page, eager to keep reading his words and wondering what else he could possibly say.

 _In truth, Hazel, I am writing to let you know that I have missed you so incredibly much since our last kiss at Nithercott Manor. I keep replaying this summer over and over in my head and wonder where I went wrong, what I could've done differently to make you choose me instead of your angry ginger friend._

 _You make me feel drunk but at the same time laser-focused. Time with you flies by and I find myself counting the seconds until I see you again. I know what all of the silly poets and songwriters are talking about when I think of you. I feel all of this and so much more for you and just needed to express that to you._

 _Please, Hazel, do not think that I will harass you upon my arrival at Hogwarts. If you are still with your friend, I will accept it and move on with my life. I simply ask that you keep in mind that you have a most ardent and passionate admirer in me, and that this year you will have the advantage of having me near for whatever may arise._

 _Highest regards,_

 _Felix LeMaire'_

Hazel let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. Her suspicions were confirmed; Felix was coming to Hogwarts. What she hadn't been expecting was the page-long declaration of his feelings toward her. She read it over again quickly before shutting the letter in her Potions textbook, not wanting to think about the letter or the handsome Frenchman it had come from. She pulled out the other letter and opened it quickly, reading the near-perfect (albeit a little shaky) script.

 _'Hazel,_

 _I told you I'd write. This is sooner than I expected, but it occurred to me after you left that I hadn't kept my promise from last spring to tell you about your mother._

 _Laurel was more like a sister to me than a cousin. Your grandfather informed me that he gave you the rest of her diaries that they had, which end after our last year at Hogwarts. I think you deserve to know what happened afterwards, the parts that you won't get to read in her diaries…'_

The morning bell that meant she had five minutes to get to class rang, interrupting her as she devoured Sirius' words. She wanted to continue, but knew that skiving off class on the first day would probably reflect badly on her. Then, taking another look at her schedule, she aversely proceeded to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

Much to her surprise, Fred opted to sit next to her rather than George in class. True to form he had dropped his bag on the table next to her, making her jump as he rudely interrupted her reverie about the pages-long letter from Sirius that rested in her bag.

"Not exactly subtle, are you?" she warned quietly as he sat.

"It's perfectly subtle, Missy Hazel. George is sitting with Angelina and Lee is sitting with Alicia. My two best mates have abandoned me, so it's perfectly natural that I should opt for my third best mate." He clarified for her, a silly smile on his face. He had purposely asked George to sit with Angelina so he could sit with Hazel, but she didn't need to know that.

"I'm only your third best mate?" she started.

" _Only?_ These are very coveted positions, Hazel, you should feel honored to be in the top five!"

"Mm-hmm." She groaned skeptically, looking at him out of the corner of her eyes.

He tapped her knee with his under the table and tilted his head forward, "If it makes you feel any better, you're the best snog of the three." He said under his breath as he leaned forward. She couldn't help the smile that spread across her face.

Fred's leg kept brushing against hers under the table as she looked around the class. They shared this particular class with Ravenclaw, and Hazel waved at a few that she knew. Angelina flirtatiously flicked her lustrous black hair over her shoulder as she talked with George, not seeming to notice or care how close Hazel and Fred were sitting. Perhaps she couldn't tell that it was George; the twins were difficult to distinguish after all.

Veronica made polite conversation with Ravenclaws Reece Holstein and the truly unfortunate-looking Helena Snodgrass. Lee and Alicia looked like they were about to pounce on each other, whether it was lust or pure unadulterated hate, Hazel couldn't tell. They'd been fighting all summer, according to Lee.

Her hand drifted down and she surreptitiously stroked the inside of Fred's wrist, smirking as she looked anywhere but at him. He shivered, her feather light touch leaving a small trail of flame on his skin and igniting a desire for her that he was forced to quell when Professor Moody slammed into the room.

The class immediately quieted and stared at their strange new professor. He was a short, stocky man who had seen one too many bloody battles in his life. The most glaringly obvious evidence of this was his magically spinning glass eye held in place by a leather strap. It whizzed around while he spoke and made Hazel slightly nauseous for some inexplicable reason.

"I am Professor Alastor Moody. I am here teaching because Dumbledore asked me, that's it, goodbye, end of story." His gruff voice was clipped as he grasped his hands together behind his back.

"Now I understand your Defense training has been irregular these last years. Anyone care to share where you left off?"

Hazel bravely raised her hand and the electric blue eye focused on her. "Yes, you."

"Hazel Herrod," she provided, her nerve suddenly dissipating.

"Herrod, then, where'd the wolf leave off?" He hobbled a few steps in her direction, one leg clanging against the stone floor loudly as if it were made of metal. With the whirring of his eye and the clanging of the metal leg he reminded her of a cyborg.

"We were just about to learn non-verbal spells before our O.W.L.s, sir." She explained, bristling slightly at his dig at Professor Lupin. If McGonagall was to be believed, Lupin's tutelage had led to the highest DADA exam passage rate in decades.

"Right. I'll come up with a lesson plan to reflect it, then. For today's class I wanted to show you what you're up against. These are dark times, children, dark times indeed, and one must have CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" He shouted, making the entire class startle. "Now, who can name me the three Unforgivable Curses?"

The class somehow became even more silent, as if they were all holding a collective breath. George raised his hand slightly and Moody was on him faster than a leopard on a gazelle.

"Weasley, right? Which one are you, then?" the professor asked, leaning on the desk.

"I'm George. And one our dad mentioned a lot is the Imperius curse, sir."

"Yes, the Imperius curse!" he said excitedly, turning his back to the class. He enlarged a tarantula so it was the size of a dinner plate and Hazel squeaked and retracted in fear as Moody cast the Unforgivable on the spider and made it bounce around the desks.

"Many witches and wizards who did the Dark Lord's bidding claim to have done so under the Imperius curse! And it's damn near impossible to tell which ones are lying. What should I make her do next? Kill someone? Drown herself?" he directed the spider over a bucket of water before returning it to his desk.

"Anyone else?" his voice broke the uncomfortable silence. A few timid hands rose in the air, among them was Angelina's. Moody pointed at her.

"There's the…Cruciatus curse, sir." She said quietly.

"Good, good!" he pointed his wand at the spider and shouted, "Crucio!"

Hazel's face blanched as the spider emitted noises that sounded remarkably like screams. She wasn't aware that arachnids could make any noise, much less the horrible high-pitched ones coming from the spider at that moment. Fred noticed her face and put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Mercifully, Moody ended the curse after too much longer.

"It takes the most awful kind of hate to cast a Cruciatus curse on another human being. Some unlucky victims have been driven insane by it." His voice was dark and the class was staring at their hands as he asked for the third and last Unforgivable curse.

When no one answered him he shot the killing curse at the spider, which dropped dead. Hazel tried to remember the grounding exercise Oliver had put her through the last spring. She could feel the anxiety creeping up her neck and down through her limbs, her hands clenched so hard that her fingernails bit into her palms. Fred stroked her arm but his face was enthralled as he listened to Moody go on and on about the dangers that waited around every corner, or, more pressingly, out in the real world.

The bell rang after ten minutes of his rant and Hazel practically ran from the room. Fred followed closely as she turned down several corridors before ending up in an abandoned turret overlooking the Forbidden Forest.

"What's wrong?" he asked sweetly, maintaining his distance. She looked like she had that night in the common room when she was frantically searching for her book.

She crossed her arms in front of her and kept staring out the window, "I dunno. It just seems like something is different this year…After what happened at the World Cup and this whole Triwizard thing that's gotten people killed in the past. Something about this year feels more…dangerous. Like something big and awful is about to happen and I'm just here waiting for the other shoe to drop."

He closed the distance between them and wrapped her in his arms, holding her against him tightly. He could feel her trembling and wanted nothing else in the world than to make her happy again.

"I'm sorry," she apologized into his chest, "I don't mean to be such a drama queen but I just feel like I haven't been standing on solid ground lately. A lot is changing very quickly and – "

He interrupted her with his lips on hers. She kissed him back and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, grateful of the distraction. He felt her smile against his lips and found himself smiling as well.

A few minutes later they came up for air and she dove into his jumper, finding comfort there that eased her anxiety over what the future held. It was a bad habit of hers, getting worked up about the future and worrying over things she couldn't yet control.

"How is it that you always know exactly what I need?" she asked, looking up at him. He looked down at her and smirked.

"I am here for all of your kissing needs. Use me at your leisure." He joked and she shoved away from him.

"I might just take you up on that." She flirted as she flounced toward the door, the bell ringing in the distance to usher in Transfiguration. They dashed down to McGonagall's classroom, arriving together and out of breath.

They received a suspicious look and narrowly avoided a detention from their head of house as she informed them of the lesson. They were practicing the Gemino charm on buttons, and were to successfully complete it five times before the lesson was over.

"Now that was the epitome of playing it cool. We should be spies." She joked quietly, referring to their breathless arrival. Everyone must've thought they were snogging in a corridor and lost track of time. Which they were.

"How do you know I'm not already?" he joked back.

"Oh stuff it and go get us some buttons."

* * *

 **Sleep time now. Please Review!**

 **UPDATE: I just realized that I am only TWELVE reviews away from 100! HELP ME HIT 100 AND I WILL BUY YOU A DRINK. IN ALL HONESTY, I WILL PROBABLY JUST DRINK IT MYSELF BUT YOU SHOULD REVIEW ANYWAY! What is that Hemingway quote, "Write drunk, edit sober"? Anyway, I'm done rambling now.**

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	23. And Then Things Got Complicated

**Just a quick blanket Thank you to all of my lovely readers! This week's been kind of slow for me, but knowing you're all out there makes me happy!**

 **Enjoy Chapter 23!**

* * *

After dinner, Hazel stole away to the library to finish the letter. George teased her about going to study after the first day of class, but she ignored him and went anyway.

 _'Hazel,_

 _I told you I'd write. This is sooner than I expected, but it occurred to me after you left that I hadn't kept my promise from last spring._

 _Your mother was more like a sister to me than a cousin. Your grandfather informed me that he gave you the rest of her diaries that they had, which end after our last year at Hogwarts. I think you deserve to know what happened afterwards, the parts that you won't get to read in her diaries._

 _You see, Hazel, your mother gave birth to you just as things were going from bad to worse. Voldemort was gaining power and followers very quickly and started to infiltrate the Ministry. We were just out of school and your mother was madly in love with your father and, nine months later there you were. She loved you and your father so much, which is why she left._

 _She saw what was happening in her world and she joined our friends and me to help make the world safer for her daughter and husband. She moved in with me and was part of the Order of the Phoenix, a small secret resistance movement. We patrolled, we foiled plots, we rescued captured Muggles, that sort of thing. Anything we could do to help weaken Voldemort's reign of terror._

 _On the next page, Hazel, I am going to describe how your mother died. I thought I would warn you in case you didn't want to know. If you don't, feel free to throw away the next page, but just know that your mother died a hero. Moving on then…_

Hazel took a deep breath to steady herself. Her grandparents and father had always maintained that Laurel was killed in an accident when Hazel was nearly three. She'd known it was a lie, but hadn't really had the heart to dig into it and find out what really happened. Now, the answer she'd wanted was sitting on the desk in front of her. She couldn't wait any more. She had to know the truth.

 _'In late summer of 1981 your mother and I were called up by the Order to help with a rescue mission. Frank and Alice Longbottom were being held by Death Eaters and tortured for information. They were both Aurors and members of the Order, so their timely rescue was of the utmost importance._

 _However, something went wrong. The Death Eaters were expecting us and we were ambushed. We had Frank and Alice and were on our way out when they attacked, and your mother made a snap decision. She told Marlene McKinnon and me to apparate away with the Longbottoms while she and a few others held the Death Eaters back. Marlene took Alice and I was about to leave with Frank when I saw her get hit with the Killing Curse. My heart broke in that instant and, after delivering Frank to St. Mungo's I informed your grandparents and your father (who punched me in the face upon hearing the news before breaking down in my arms)._

 _She missed you so much, Hazel. She would look at your picture every night to remind herself why she was fighting. She wanted a better, safer world for you. I had to stop her from leaving a few times, she missed you so badly. She also missed your father and ignored every other man who made a pass at her (and there were a lot of them). Laurel was the type of woman who loved very deeply; so being away from the two of you was especially hard for her._

 _I really wish you had gotten to know her better than you did. It's a travesty that children like you and Harry lost your parents while they were fighting the good fight. I hope to get to know you in her stead. If she was my de facto sister that would make you my niece, which is much better than being my second cousin once removed or whatever you actually are._

 _I feel like I'm starting to ramble and I'm running out of paper, but I really hope you write me back. It'll give me something to look forward to._

 _Much love,_

 _Snuffles'_

Hazel's face was damp when she finished the letter. Her mother had died a hero, not a victim as the adults in her life had made her believe. Laurel had missed her, had always struggled with her decision to leave. At that moment, that was exactly what Hazel had wanted to know about her mother.

And then the hypotheticals started. What if Laurel hadn't died? Would she have come back when the Dark Lord died? How would Hazel's life be different? Having a mother figure around would have come in handy many, many times. Hazel had to learn about the birds and the bees from her father (and then, in third year along with all of the other third years, from Professor McGonagall, and both instances were incredibly awkward), makeup and hair from Veronica and Angelina, and the wizarding world from her grandparents. It would have been nice to learn all of that from one person.

She started to cry harder when she thought of her father's impending marriage. She'd be getting a new mother at the end of the school year to replace the one she'd lost. It was an awful feeling that settled over her. Something akin to betrayal mixed with a strong feeling of loss twisting into a cocktail of sadness and self-pity that made her nauseous.

She wiped the tears away as best she could before she was hit with another wave that left her blubbering as quietly as she was able to. A few students passed by and she could feel embarrassment creeping over her features, so she grabbed her things and ran to the one place she knew she could be totally alone.

The room behind the tapestry was quiet and still, which was exactly what she needed just then. She put the ancient kettle on and made herself a cup of tea before reading Sirius' letter again. She couldn't begin to fathom a response yet, so she cried a little more and curled up on the couch.

She'd managed to shut out the world. That is, until a knock came from the door.

"Hazel?" Fred asked and she got up to let him in.

He saw her eyes, bloodshot and puffy from the hour or so of crying, and his heart cracked sympathetically.

"Well you've looked better." He jested.

"Oh stuff it." She said, laughing through her tears as she made her way back to the couch, stuffing the letter into her skirt pocket.

"I'm sorry. Is this about Moody?"

"No, this is something entirely different."

"Care to elaborate?" he moved to the couch and sat next to her.

Hazel hesitated, she wanted to tell him but that would mean telling him the truth about Sirius. "Not really."

"Do you want me to leave?"

"No, stay. Maybe you can distract me." She mentioned casually. His mere presence had started to ease her anxiety. She could feel her mind clearing and she visibly relaxed, leaning against the back of the couch.

"I am nothing if not an excellent distraction." He smiled wickedly and leaned toward her, placing a gentle kiss on her lips. She felt her heart flutter against her ribs. He brushed away some of the remaining tears and buried his hands in her hair, pulling her even closer. She obliged him and straddled his lap, resting her arms on his broad shoulders.

She could feel the familiar feeling awaken inside her and despite what she had said on the train she wanted to give into it. Her hands stroked the collar of his shirt and she pulled at his tie, loosening it. His hands moved from her hair down her back and up her sides. Eventually she got his tie off and threw it aside before unfastening the top few buttons of his shirt and kissing the hollow of his throat, eliciting a deep moan from him as he tilted his head back.

She was testing his patience. If he had his way they would make their way over to the bed and continue from there. But he had to respect her boundaries, even if she seemed to be pushing them herself.

And she was. She wanted him so badly, but she didn't want to go too far too fast. Her body and heart screamed yes, but her head was stubbornly refusing to let her give in. She kissed along his jawline as his hands continued to wander her torso, noticeably moving closer and closer toward her breasts.

When he finally gathered the courage to caress one through her jumper he started slowly, with a few fingertips and slowly moved his palm up. He took it as a good thing when she leaned into his hand, encouraging him.

He pulled his lips away from hers and looked her in the eye. "Are you sure you want to keep going? This is a little fast."

She pouted and dropped her forehead to his shoulder. "I want to, but you're right. We should cool off."

She got down from on top of him and sighed, taking the letter out of her pocket and handing it to him.

He glanced at it and then back at her, "What is this?"

"It's a letter from Sirius Black." She explained, coming right out with it.

"Sirius Black? The man from whom you spent the entirety of last year cowering?"

"Yes. And bonus points for grammar."

"Why is he writing you letters?"

She sighed again, "Do you remember that stray dog I was feeding?"

"Yeah."

"Sirius Black is an unregistered animagus. He is a dog. He is the dog I fed last year. And, he is innocent. Peter Pettigrew set him up; it's a long story that I would be happy to share another time. Anyway, he was wrongfully imprisoned and is now on the run. He was also one of my mother's closest friends and he wanted to let me know what happened to her all those years ago. Please, just read the letter. It'll explain a lot." She explained quickly.

Fred was a bit gobsmacked, so he remained silent and read the letter. He could feel Hazel's eyes on him the entire time and when he finished he looked up at her.

"This is heavy stuff, Hazel."

"I know that."

"Thank you for sharing it with me." He said quietly, opening his arms to her and closing them around her when she cuddled into them.

"You're welcome."

* * *

She wrote a heartfelt thank-you letter to Sirius the next day, once she'd calmed down a bit. After that, September whizzed by in a blur of classwork and stolen kisses. On one sunny October morning Hazel and Fred were working together in Potions. As Hazel had predicted, McGonagall wasn't about to let the notorious Weasley twins have free reign of the castle for all but a few hours of the day, so she had stuck each in an extra class; Fred in Potions and George in Care of Magical Creatures.

Hazel was trying to focus; Restoration Potions were difficult and they'd failed their last three attempts.

"So, as I was saying, George and I didn't really _mean_ to start a stampede at the petting zoo. Who knew donkeys were so sensitive to firecrackers?" Fred asked rhetorically, not pausing for a breath as he continued, "Anyway, Ron nearly gets trampled by a herd of bunny rabbits and George and I spend the next two weeks doing every chore that pops into mum's head."

"Fred, shut up!" she said as the bean she'd been trying to crush rolled off of the table and onto the ground.

"What? I thought you liked my stories."

"I do, just not when I'm being graded." She snapped, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. Her honey curls were frizzier than normal and put up in a bushy ponytail to keep it from accidentally dipping into the potion. She'd lost a good six inches off of the left side of her head in second year when she accidentally singed it off in an infusion of asphodel.

Fred opened her mouth to retort, but Professor Snape was passing by and couldn't resist making a comment.

"Mr. Weasley, I know you didn't earn your way into this class, but it would behoove you to respect the ones who did. Or is detention in order?"

"No, Professor." Fred responded, looking him straight in the eye.

"Excellent. Perhaps while Miss Herrod stirs the potion you could prepare the rose leaves?"

"Right. Rose leaves, rose leaves…rose…leaves…leaves of rose …" Fred muttered, glancing about the table for leaves. He didn't see any.

Snape sighed, annoyance creeping into his tone, "On the branch, Mr. Weasley."

"Ah, right-o. I will just…prepare these then." Fred said, picking up the thin branch with some sparse leaves and twirling it in his fingers.

"Pluck them off the branch and slice them into ribbons, Weasley! And while you're at it, detention tomorrow night! Seven o'clock sharp." Snape flicked his cape and moved away from their station.

Hazel's eyes had remained fixed on the bubbling blue liquid she was stirring in a counter-clockwise motion. She had to bite her lip to keep from laughing as Fred's dopey, dumbfounded expression turned toward her. Hazel sputtered, barely able to control herself.

"Why are you laughing?"

"No reason." She said unconvincingly as her face twisted into a toothy smile.

Fred hip checked her and started plucking the leaves off of the branch. Her mirth had subsided, but the smile remained on her pretty face and Fred was momentarily incapacitated by how absolutely gorgeous she was. What ever made her want to date a bloke like him he'd never know, but he'd always be grateful.

"Do you know how many of these leaves we'll need?" he asked her, as Snape had already taken down the instructions.

"No, I don't. My book is in my bag if you want to go check." She pointed toward the desks where she had left her messenger bag and Fred made his way over. The front flap was covered with pins of Muggle bands surrounding a Gryffindor badge.

He opened the bag and pulled out her Potions book, flipping to the right page. Something fell out of the front cover and onto the desk with a small slapping noise. Fred picked it up and turned it over. It was a letter of some kind, written in perfect penmanship with the blue seal of Beauxbatons on the back. Anger rose in his chest as he realized whom it was from. Checking over his shoulder, Fred slipped it into the pocket of his robes to read later.

They finished the potion and Hazel hugged him around the waist when Snape deemed it a success. Well, he deemed it passable, which to Hazel meant success.

* * *

That afternoon in Charms they were working on non-verbal levitation charms with pillows. Hazel had it down within the first few minutes and sat in conversation with Flitwick about the intricacies of Charm Theory. She'd been working on the CDs for a month with little success. She'd managed to make Nirvana's _Nevermind_ emit the sound of a wailing child, but that was it.

"Have you tried a sonorous charm?" Flitwick asked. Hazel groaned and dropped her head to the desk. She'd tried that many times with no success.

"Of course. It was the first one I tried. I need a charm to read the information off of the disc first before it'll make noise."

"Hmm…that might be one for you to make up, my dear."

The door of the classroom slammed and Hazel's head snapped toward the direction of the sound. Fred stalked back to his seat next to George and sat there, glaring at his pillow for the rest of the lesson.

After class Hazel caught up with him after class and tugged on his shirt at the elbow.

"What's wrong?"

"Why do you think something's wrong?"

"You've got your angry eyebrows on. And you're crossing your arms and leaning away from me. And the look on your face suggests that you'd rather be anywhere but here." She listed, trying to remain breezy about it when inside she was shaking like a leaf. She smiled weakly at him, but he didn't return it.

"We'll talk later." He stated brusquely, turning on his heel and stalking off toward Gryffindor Tower with his twin. He and George had to figure out a plan to trick the Triwizard judge, when what he really wanted to do was go flying. Not having Quidditch this year was going to be tough, as it had always served as a bit of an outlet for him. In the air it didn't matter if he was livid or despondent or ecstatic, he was always able to focus on the game.

Now, he focused on his feet as they led them through the common room and up to his dorm. George sat on his own bed and kicked off his shoes before reclining against the pillow.

"What's eating you, mate?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Fred muttered.

"Is it something to do with Hazel?" George could see right through his brother's angry façade. He knew that Fred and Hazel were together and had been since before the school year started, but Fred had sworn him to secrecy. George was more than happy to oblige; he loved a good secret.

Fred sighed, not wanting to keep this bottled up inside him much longer. And he didn't want to keep something like this from his brother. He reached into his robes and handed George the letter he'd found earlier and watched him as he read it. When he finished, his eyes met Fred's with an annoyed look on his face.

"So what? She got a letter from that French plonker? _That's_ why you're upset?"

"She hid it from me for more than a month! Look at the date!"

"So you're mad that she hid it?"

"Well yeah! That and he's bloody in love with her!" Fred was pacing the room and gesticulating wildly.

"You idiot, _she's_ bloody in love with _you_! She picked _you_ , didn't she?" George said as he fell back on his bed, exasperated.

"She probably only picked me because she was sure she'd never see him again! I'm probably just a fucking placeholder for that froggy ponce!"

"Well that would be something to ask her, wouldn't it? Now are you going to help me figure out how to get into the Tournament or not?"

Fred let out a long sigh and moved to sit on his bed, facing George. "Yeah, alright."

* * *

Hazel waited for him in the secret room after dinner. It had become their unofficial meeting place and she desperately hoped he would show up. She tried to keep her mind occupied by thinking of a charm to get the discs to play.

"Perlego," she said, waving her wand over a disc. It stirred a bit, but didn't make a peep. She was about to give up when she tried the last possible incantation she'd written down.

"Cognoscio discus," she said as she waved her wand over the album again. It shot up in front of her face and started spinning, just as it would in a stereo. "Sonorus tacitum," she said hopefully and music filled the room. Her heart leapt and she jumped to her feet, bopping around to the sounds of Weezer as they sang about looking like Buddy Holly.

Her dance break was cut short by the sound of the door slamming and she whipped around, her ponytail almost whapping her in the face. Fred stood by the door, a suspicious look on his face. Ignoring how upset he was earlier, she ran over to him and hugged him tightly.

"I did it! I did it, Fred! I did it!" she chanted excitedly as he placed his hands on her hips and pushed her away.

"Did what? Made music play? You can do that by turning on the radio." He replied sulkily, sitting on the couch.

"I made it play off of a Muggle CD! Without any electricity!" she noticed the hard, distant look on his face and sat next to him, "Why aren't you happy for me? I thought you'd be ecstatic."

"I found this." He fished in his pocket for a second and held the letter between his forefinger and middle finger. It took Hazel a second to recognize it, but when she did she scooted away from him a bit.

"Oh." She muttered.

"Care to explain?"

"What is there to explain? He wrote me a letter to tell me he'd be spending the year at Hogwarts. I didn't tell you about it because I forgot about it until just now." She explained.

"He also says that he's in love with you."

"I can't help how he feels."

"Maybe you should."

"How?"

"I don't know, Hazel!" he exploded off the couch after their retorts had grown louder and louder. She was shocked as she realized what the subtext of his words was.

"Are you intimidated by him? Is that what this is all about?"

Fred's face darkened. "You chose him once before."

Hazel got up and crossed to him, gripping his arms and feeling the warmth beneath his shirt.

"And then I chose you. He mentioned a kiss at my grandparents' house, yeah? That was after the World Cup and I felt nothing! Absolutely nothing!"

"You kissed him after the World Cup?"

" _He_ kissed _me_! We'd put a bet on the game and I lost, he was just collecting on the bet, that's it! And, as stated before, _I felt nothing_." She tried to make eye contact but he avoided her icy blue eyes and pulled out of her grasp.

"I just…need to be alone for a bit." He muttered as he passed to the door. He left without another word, the door slamming shut behind him.

Hazel's eyes prickled with tears but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of letting them fall. It was the same old routine; one step forward two steps back. Only this time, her heart was hanging in the balance. She was telling the truth, she'd forgotten about the letter until the moment he'd flashed it in front of her face. She didn't have feelings for Felix. She'd chosen Fred and wanted to be with him.

Her tears slowly turned into anger. Why the hell didn't he believe her? What had she ever done to lose his trust? Why was he taking his insecurities out on her? She decided to give him the time he wanted. She would just have to trust him to get over it quickly.

* * *

A few days later and Fred was still sulking. The timing was particularly awkward, as the guests from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang were set to arrive that evening. Hazel's stomach was in knots all day in anticipation of her reunion with Felix. It got so bad that she skived off Arithmancy that afternoon and visited Madame Pomfrey, who gave her some Elixir of Peppermint and Ginger and told her to lie down.

She reclined and opened Stephen King's _The Shining_ to the page where she'd left off. Before she knew it, Veronica was shaking her awake and telling her that it was time for dinner. Hazel rose from the bed and stretched, running a hand through her tangled curls. Veronica gave her looks the okay and the two girls headed to dinner.

"So the students have arrived?" Hazel inferred.

"Oh yes! The Beauxbatons students came in a carriage that's as big as a house driven by giant horses. Durmstrang came in a ship. I must say, some of those Beauxbatons boys are _tasty_!" Veronica enthused as she pushed her glasses up her nose.

"And the Durmstrang ones?"

"They're not bad…just a little too angry looking for my tastes."

They arrived at the Great Hall shortly after and took their seats. Fred and George were seated down the table a ways, but she could feel his eyes flicker over to her every so often, as if he were keeping tabs on her. Hazel's heart stopped when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned around and stared into the gorgeous face of Felix.

"Bonjour, Hazel." He said, a radiant smile spreading across his face.

"Hello Felix. How was the trip here?"

"It was fine. Nothing special. But this castle! So much bigger than Beauxbatons, so beautiful! I hope I have the time to explore it this year."

"I'm sure you will, with the Tournament and all. Are you going to enter?"

"I think I will. It could prove to be quite exciting. Who is your friend?"

"Oh, Felix, this is Veronica. Veronica, this is Felix." Veronica, who was unabashedly gaping at Felix, shook his outstretched hand and muttered a greeting.

At that moment, an equally gorgeous blonde boy who said something incoherent in French joined Felix.

"Oui, Robert, this is Hazel, the girl I was telling you about. Hazel, this is my friend Robert." He introduced. They shook hands and Robert kissed the back of her fingers. She could feel a blush creep up into her cheeks.

"Enchantée, mademoiselle. I can see that Felix was not exaggerating about your beauty."

"It's nice to meet you too, Robert."

"Robert was just telling me that our group is sitting over at the blue table, so I will see you later, Hazel?"

"Of course. Very nice to meet you, Robert."

"And you as well, Hazel. I hope we will see more of each other!" he shouted over his shoulder as Felix led him away. Once they were settled at the Ravenclaw table, Veronica turned to Hazel.

"Why oh why didn't you tell me _he_ was going to be here?"

"What difference does it make?" Hazel asked as she reached for the mashed potatoes.

"Well, first of all, we get to look at _that_ all year! Secondly, this is like your big second chance! You could make something happen with him and not spend the rest of your life wondering what could've been!" Veronica enthused with a starry expression in her eyes. Hazel scoffed.

"I think you've been reading too many harlequin romances, Veronica. Felix and I left things in a good place this summer, no need to go about dragging it all up again."

"Well then you might try for something with Blondie. He couldn't take his eyes off you," Veronica glanced down the table at Fred, who was now actively glaring at them. He'd seen the entire exchange, Hazel knew. "And speaking of eyes. Care to explain what's going on there?"

"Going on where?" Hazel played dumb and continued to eat her dinner until Veronica grabbed her wrist.

"Oh come on, Hazel. You two have been making googly eyes at each other since last year and then you start sneaking around together and now he's looking at you like you betrayed him. Explain."

"Later." Veronica didn't look pleased, so Hazel continued, "I swear I will explain everything later. Now would you shut up and eat please?"

* * *

 **In space, no one can hear you review!**


	24. Never Ending Circles

**Hey All! Sorry it's been so long since my last update! I gotta be honest, I'm losing steam here. I've got a few more story ideas that have popped into my head (Sherlock, a Sirius/OC story, possibly a True Blood one...) and I'm having trouble concentrating. I've got four more chapters of Hazel already written, but would like to increase my "buffer zone" before I post any more. I won't leave you hanging, I swear! It just might be a bit longer between chapters! I'm so sorry!**

 **Anyway, I love all of you for reading, following, favoriting, and (most of all) reviewing! I'm only two away from one hundred reviews! I can't freaking believe that!**

 **Your support means the world to me; I hope you enjoy this chapter!...even if it is a bit melodramatic...**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Hazel sat in the library brainstorming ideas for her father's wedding. Currently she was focused on finding the perfect first dance song for him and Julia. She had a pretty good list and was hoping to narrow it down and send Daniel a few options by the end of the week. According to him they'd nearly set a date for the middle of July, they were just waiting to hear back from their chosen venue about it.

"Is this seat taken?" Fred asked, pointing to the seat across from her. She glanced up at him and shook her head briefly before going back to her list.

"Hazel, will you look at me?" he requested quietly and she looked up at his face, careful to avoid his eyes. "I'm sorry, alright? I overreacted. It's just that…I've wanted this for so long, and I don't want to lose you to some ridiculously handsome French bloke. I don't want to lose you at all."

He had reached across the table and put a hand over hers, his face looking absolutely contrite. Hazel sighed and put down her quill.

"If this is going to work, Fred, you can't lose your mind every time another guy looks at me. I'm not so fickle as to fall into their arms and leave you hanging."

"I know that. I'm just a bit new at this whole relationship thing." He hung his head. He was so adorable when he was apologetic, she thought as she resisted the urge to run a hand through his hair. However, she couldn't ignore the sneaking suspicion that her reassurances wouldn't be enough for him. If he was trapped in this funk, she had no clue how to pull him out.

"Me too. But it's like you don't trust me at all and I don't know what I did to make that happen." She confessed as she grabbed his hand in hers, the back of her hand resting on the table.

"I don't mean to not trust you."

"What the hell does that mean?" Hazel leaned back in her chair, disengaging her hands from his and crossing her arms over her chest defensively.

"I mean that I want to trust you. I really do. It's just that…after this summer I was so angry with you for choosing him-"

"But I didn't choose him! I broke it off with him so we could be friends again!"

"You _did not_ break it off with him!"

"Yes I did!" Their voices rose dangerously and Hazel knew that if they continued raising their volume they'd get a visit from a very angry Madame Pince, but she didn't care. She had to explain her side for him yet again since he couldn't seem to get it past his thick skull.

"Then what the fuck was that letter all about?"

"Forget about the fucking letter already! I've told you it meant nothing because it means _nothing,_ but you refuse to believe me! It's like you think I'm going to run off with him the second he asks and if that's what you think of me then you can just fuck off!" She lost her temper, her shouts echoing through the stacks and alerting Madame Pince to their row. The elderly librarian hobbled over to them and shrieked at Hazel to get out, banning her from the library for two weeks for causing such a ruckus. Hazel gathered her things in a huff and started to walk away, but Fred's hand caught her wrist.

"Hazel…"

"I can't do this anymore." She wrenched away from him, her eyes prickling and welling with tears as she practically ran out of the library.

She managed to keep the tears at bay until she got back to her dorm, but once there she collapsed into racking sobs on her bed, hugging her pillow tight to her chest. Why didn't he trust her? Things had been going so well and she thought they actually had a fighting chance, only for things to fall to pieces once again. Perhaps this was the universe telling her that she didn't belong with Fred.

That thought stung more than the mistrust. Why couldn't they make this work? He'd grown a daisy out of a book for her, wasn't that worth something?

Apparently not.

She didn't go down to dinner that night in order to avoid seeing him. She wasn't ready for that step yet. The actual break-up. She tried to rehearse it in her head so she would know what to say, but she only ended up dreading it more. She knew that it was the right thing to do it face to face, after they'd had some time to cool off.

Fresh tears fell as her brain tripped over every possible outcome of her next conversation with Fred. No situation ended without at least one broken heart. She could try to stick it out, but what would that prove? That she let her jealous boyfriend control who she could and couldn't talk to? No way. She was her own woman, with her own thoughts and she could speak to and be friends with whomever she wanted to.

It had to be done. She just didn't want to do it.

* * *

The next morning Hazel slept in, as she had a free morning. She'd come to enjoy her mornings off, as the common room was usually empty and quiet. The perfect environment to catch up on her studies. That morning she was catching up on her Arithmancy and stuck on a particularly difficult problem, when Fred and George came bounding back into the common room, breathless from running.

"What'd you do now?" she asked, as this was a pretty common occurrence with all of their free time. She merely glanced up at the twins, sharing an awkward moment with Fred.

"We gave ol' Roger Davies a test batch of the latest Ton-tongue toffees. The tongue stops growing once it reaches three feet long!" George exclaimed.

"Tell her the best part!" Fred insisted, nudging his brother in the ribs.

"Yeah! So we get him to eat one – "

"Using our undeniable charms, of course."

"And right as his tongue starts growing, who happens to walk by but Fleur Delacour! So the poor bastard whips his head around to watch her walk away because, _hello Mademoiselle,"_ he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and Hazel rolled her eyes, "And his three-foot tongue whips her in the face!"

The boys collapsed into laughter, slapping one another on the back in congratulations of a job well done. Hazel rolled her eyes again and went back to her Arithmancy. Eventually the boys settled down on the couch, one on either side of Hazel. Fred raised an arm and draped it around her shoulders casually, hoping to make amends by rekindling their physical intimacy. This hope was dashed when she shrugged it off roughly and shot him a glare from the corner of her eye.

"Hey George, give us a moment?" Fred asked his brother, who stood swiftly.

"Right-o." he said, shooting them a mischevious wink before heading up the stairs.

Once they were alone he turned to her and asked the question that had kept his mind ablaze for the last sixteen hours, "What did you mean yesterday? When you said…"

"I know what I said."

""And…?"

"And what?"

"You said you can't do _this_ anymore. I just want to know what _this_ is! If it's fighting with me I would me more than happy to stop."

She bit back a smile at his wordplay and sighed to steady her nerves. It was now or never.

" _This_ is us. I can't be with someone who doesn't trust me." She said simply.

"So you want to break up?"

She let the words hang in the air, not wanting to say anything because that would make the situation worse. She just sat on the couch and stared at her homework, the numbers and symbols on the page becoming blurry before her eyes as she unfocused them.

After a minute Fred cleared his throat, unable to breathe. "Alright…if you don't want to fight for this, that's fine."

His words were angry and passive-aggressive, but calm. He slapped his thighs and rose to his feet, needing to get away from her as quickly as possible. He gripped the fireplace mantle and felt the warmth it emitted. The entire common room was warm, so why did he have chills?

"I have fought for this! I went against my grandparents wishes because I wanted to be with you! And you still refuse to trust me!" She cried, her voice cracking under the weight of the moment. Fred felt his temper flare and before he could stop himself he whipped back around from his post by the fireplace.

"Oh boo hoo, you pissed off your grandparents! Yeah, Hazel, I know you chose me, but only after stringing me along for months! And then I find out that you _blew_ that fucking prick. Shit, it's bad enough knowing that Wood got there before I did, but the frog too?"

"Fuck you Fred!" she shouted, throwing her homework on the table and dashing toward the girl's dorms. She stopped and turned back at the foot of the stairs, "For the record, it's over."

"Loud and clear, princess!" he shouted back. As he heard her footsteps recede up the stairs he cried out, knocking various tchotchkes on the mantle to the floor.

Hazel heard his angry scream as she slammed the door to her dorm, kicking it roughly and letting out a cry of her own. She kicked the door again before collapsing in a puddle of tears.

* * *

When her friends came back to the dorm they saw her red, puffy eyes and flocked over her like protective mother hens, asking what was wrong and if she wanted a cuppa or some biscuits. Hazel denied their offers and insisted she wanted to be alone. Veronica and Angelina reluctantly obliged, insisting that if she needed anything she let one of them know.

It was long after her friends had fallen asleep that Hazel ventured out of the dorms and down to the kitchens, unable to ignore her stomach's call for food any longer. She felt as though a giant hole had opened in her chest, like a black hole. At the same time, she felt sick. Like her stomach acid was trying to burn its way through her abdomen. She needed to eat something.

She arrived at the kitchens and entered. An elderly house elf named Potsy greeted her and ushered her over to the tables, where she ate a light dinner and drank a cup of warm tea. When she was finished with the food, she took her tea over to the large chairs by the fireplace and curled into one. She stared into the fire, feeling empty and numb, when the door opened again.

"Unfortunately mate, I think you're going to have to move on." She heard George say after they greeted the house elves that flocked over to them. Hazel remained still in her chair, paralyzed by fear and praying to whatever gods there were that they didn't see her. The high-backed chair hid her pretty well, but if they came over to the fire they would surely spot her.

"How? I've been crazy about her for so long and now I've gone fucked everything up."

"Look on the bright side; at least you tried. You gave it your best shot and everything went to hell. Perhaps this is the universe telling you that you two were just meant to be friends." George rambled optimistically. Hazel could've slapped him.

"I don't think that's a possibility anymore." Fred's voice was dark and thick, as if he were about to cry. Hazel's heart broke again and she bit her lip as fresh tears made their way down her cheeks.

"Why not?"

"Because I love her. I am hopelessly bloody in love with her but…she'll never forgive me for what I said."

"Mate…" George's voice was full of sympathy and an utter lack of what to say. It was an entirely new sensation for him and he couldn't decide which was worse; not knowing how to cheer up his twin brother or not being able to find the right words to at least make an attempt.

Fred looked up at his brother with tear-filled eyes and whispered, "I pushed her away. I deserve what I get." And with that, he hung his head and wept quietly. The only thing George could think to do was put a hand on Fred's shoulder. Fred grabbed his brother's forearm tightly, as if it was the only thing keeping him from sinking down into the bottomless black ocean that was his despair.

Over in her chair, Hazel had to clamp a hand over her own mouth to stifle her sobs. Hearing those gloomy words come from one of the cheeriest people she knew had opened a fresh wound inside her and what made it worse was that she knew she'd caused it. It was a stake to the heart, a knife to the gut, and a bolt through her skull. She would've endured the Cruciatus curse for the next decade rather than this. She hugged her legs to her chest and leaned to her left against the side of the chair, not realizing that that was where she'd set her teacup, which went crashing to the stone floor.

The noise made the boys look up from their wet huddle and Fred wiped his tears with the back of his hand upon realizing they were not alone.

"Hello?" George asked loudly to make sure he was heard. "Who's there?" He rose from his seat and took a few steps toward the chair they'd thought was empty, his steps echoing against the fireplace.

Hazel could feel the adrenaline rush through her veins, her flight-or-fight response kicking in. In a snap decision, she decided on flight and tore away from the chair toward the door.

George had recognized the bushy blonde ponytail and made a grab for her arm, but she was too quick for him and was out the door before either of them could say anything. Fred remained in his seat, his jaw tense and trembling. She'd heard everything and made no motion to let them know she was there. She'd let him go on and on about how hurt he was until she couldn't stand it anymore and left.

The word "selfish" popped into his mind and he fixated on it, channeled his anger and hurt into it. She was just selfish. That's why she kept leading him on and throwing him off. Just another selfish bint.

He tried to believe it, but he couldn't. He just broke down into even more tears, which were swallowed up by his brother's jumper.

* * *

Hazel shook Veronica awake when she got back to the dorms.

"Hazel? What's going on? What do you need?" the brunette asked blearily as she reached for her glasses. She put them on and her eyes focused on Hazel's red, tear-stained face.

"Veronica, I've done something awful." She confessed. Veronica closed her curtains and the two girls sat on her bed, Hazel revealing to her best friend what had happened over the last forty-eight hours.

"And just now I was down in the kitchen and they came in and didn't see me and I just sat there and listened to him go on and on about how much he loved me and how hurt he was and I just couldn't take it! He's one of the happiest people I know and I hurt him! I _broke_ him! I'm a horrible person!" she blubbered as quietly as she could until Veronica put a soundproofing charm on her bed. Then she hugged Hazel tightly, gently shushing her and the blonde broke down into racking sobs.

"It's going to be alright. You're not a horrible person. Everything will be okay, you'll see." She comforted as Hazel continued to cry, knowing full well what her friend was going through, as she'd gone through it herself after she'd cheated on Cedric. This wasn't the same situation, exactly, but heartbreak was heartbreak.

"How long until it's alright? I can't bear this, Veronica!"

Veronica's heart broke for her friend, who was one of the strongest people she knew. Seeing her like this was difficult to say the least.

"I can't say. Things like this aren't very concrete. All I know is it's going to take time."

Veronica continued to hold Hazel until she'd cried herself to sleep. Veronica didn't attempt to move her back to her own bed, she just cuddled up next to her. It's what best friends were for.

* * *

Thankfully, the next day was a Saturday so she didn't have any classes in which she could run into Fred. To make sure of that, she spent the day out at her favorite study tree with her nose buried in her Transfiguration book. However, she wasn't actually reading. She had it open on her lap, but her eyes were vacantly staring across the lake.

Someone near her cleared their throat and she snapped out of her daze, lowering her eyes only to find that Felix was standing next to her table, looking absolutely dashing in his weekend wear; a dark waistcoat over a navy button down shirt, sleeves rolled up of course, and a pair of dark jeans. Every item of clothing was tailored to fit him just right, which did him nothing but favors. Hazel flitted her eyes over his ensemble before gluing them to her book.

"Hello Felix." She muttered politely.

"Bonjour, Hazel. Do you mind if I join you?" he motioned to the ground next to her and she shrugged. He took this as an invitation and sat next to her, his long legs stretched out in front of him and his back also resting against the tree.

"Are you going to tell me why you look so forlorn or will I have to guess?" he asked good-naturedly, nudging her shoulder with his. She didn't smile and kept her eyes fixed on her book, hoping he couldn't tell that she'd read the same sentence over and over since he'd shown up.

"I'm just trying to study. I'd appreciate some quiet."

"Sorry to disappoint, but I am looking for a reply."

"A reply?"

"Oui. I sent you a letter six weeks ago and have not received a reply. That's very rude, you know." The smile in his eyes refused to abate, so she knew he was poking lighthearted fun at her, but after the events of the last few days her patience was wearing thin.

"Oh yes, your letter. The one that got me into a whole heap of trouble and made me break off one of the only semi-stable relationships I've ever been in? Here's your reply: Fuck off." She glared at him, finally taking her eyes off her textbook.

"No."

"Excuse me?"

"I am sorry that my letter caused you so much trouble, Hazel, but I will not fuck off. I simply wish for us to be friends like we were this summer." He explained calmly, his deep blue eyes boring into hers and making her nervous.

"Why do you want to be my friend?"

"Because you are a very interesting, beautiful person and I would like to be around you, even though your heart belongs to someone else."

She looked away from him shyly, ready to deny his words. But she found that she couldn't. Even after the last few days, which had been horrific beyond words, she was still hung up on Fred. Felix put a finger under her chin and directed her face back toward his so he could look her in the eye again.

"Hazel, I will not pressure you into something you are not ready for. I would like to be with you, but when the time is right. Not right now. I am a patient man and all I seem to have here at Hogwarts is time. So when you are ready, I will be right here. I swear, this is the last I will mention this, _d'accord_?"

Hazel nodded weakly, struck dumb by his words. He was willing to wait for her to get over Fred. But what if she got over Fred and didn't want him? What if she never got over Fred? From where their relationship stood now, she didn't think she ever would.

Instead of asking him the what-if questions, she simply smiled and nodded her head, "And isn't this whole Tournament about international magical cooperation?"

"Exactly. So, friends?" he asked, sticking his hand out for her to shake.

She shook it, "Friends."

* * *

To avoid any ugly confrontations, Hazel took to sitting with Felix and his friends at the Ravenclaw table during meals. Since all of his friends (and, indeed, most of the students from Beauxbatons) were seventh-years and over the age limit, their topic of conversation was often a heated debate over who would be picked to represent their school. That was basically all that Hazel could understand, as their conversations were always in hurried French. Felix would translate, or ignore them entirely and focus on Hazel.

The next week flew by and she found herself in attendance for the choosing ceremony. She sat between Felix and Robert at the Ravenclaw table, and waved to Veronica when she saw her friend enter the Great Hall. She scanned the Gryffindor table for the twins and found them sitting toward the middle, both of them scowling and sulking. She'd heard of their attempt to trick the Goblet of Fire from Veronica, who was keeping her abreast of the goings-on in her own house.

Her eyes accidentally met Fred's for half a second, and she was very glad that looks couldn't kill because she surely would've gone up in flames.

"Are you nervous?" she asked Felix, who shook his head. He'd entered mostly because all of his friends were, but they'd all agreed that Robert was the favorite to be picked.

"No, but I welcome the challenge." He said coolly, casting his eyes over to Robert, who was jittering nervously. Hazel turned her head and put a hand on Robert's forearm. He flinched as if she'd startled him.

"Are you alright?" she asked him. He focused his laser green eyes on her and his face blanched. He nodded unconvincingly, gripping his hands together so hard his knuckles turned white. Something told Hazel that he didn't want to be the favorite any more.

Professor Dumbledore called the room to quiet and they did. The entire hall seemed to hold its breath as the Goblet was magically transported into the room. The mystical blue flames started to sputter and spark almost as soon as it arrived, and Dumbledore held up his hand, ready to accept the first victor's name.

"The champion from Beauxbatons is…Fleur Delacour!" he announced. The French students clapped and cheered for the pretty blonde girl as she rose delicately out of her chair and disappeared behind the door Dumbledore had indicated. Hazel felt Robert slump over in relief next to her.

"The champion from Durmstrang, Viktor Krum!" Another round of cheers and polite applause and the Quidditch champion rose triumphantly from his seat, following Fleur into the trophy room.

"And finally, the Hogwarts champion…Cedric Diggory!"

The whole hall burst into applause as the handsome Hufflepuff made his way back to the door and disappeared behind it. Hazel was happy it was Cedric; he was definitely worthy of eternal glory and he looked like a fairy tale knight. All he was missing was the white horse.

Hazel started to tune out Dumbledore's parting words when the Goblet caught her attention, as it was spitting and sparking once more. The hall fell silent once more as Dumbledore caught the last piece of paper, a befuddled look on his old features.

"Harry Potter." He said, and then again louder, "Harry Potter!"

 _Of course,_ Hazel thought to herself. _Poor kid's got the most rotten luck._

Dumbledore dismissed everyone as he and the staff followed Harry into the trophy room. For a moment, every student in the room was frozen, but slowly they thawed out and trickled back to their dorms. Hazel bid Felix and Robert good night and caught up with Veronica.

"Do you ruddy believe it?" Veronica asked rhetorically, pushing her glasses up her nose. "Wonder how he did it…"

"Yeah…" Hazel said noncommittally.

"Anyway, are you excited for your birthday? That's what, ten days away?" Veronica tried to rope her back into a conversation as she noticed her friend searching for familiar red hair in the crowd.

"Oh yeah. Seventeen. Big one." Hazel muttered, her eyes still flickering over the crowd.

"So I thought we could rent out a club in downtown London, throw a big party, maybe invite Johnny Depp, what do you think?" Veronica suggested.

"Sure, but only if he leaves that odious Kate Moss at home." Hazel smirked at her friend. "Actually, Felix offered part of the Beauxbatons carriage for my party. I think that's better than the common room…in light of recent events and all."

"Hazel…" Veronica groaned.

"He's not going to forgive me, Veronica. Especially not now. I just don't want to rub his face in it." Her voice was firm, warning her friend not to push the matter.

"Okay…"

* * *

 **You can tell me how much you loathe me in your review!**

 **#itgetsbetter #iswear #thingswillworkoutforthem #eventually**


	25. Mending Fences

**I'm BAAAAA-aaaack!**

 **Please allow me to express my deepest regrets about leaving you all in the lurch like that! I honestly never ever meant for 3 whole months to pass before I posted again! Be advised, dear readers, that I will be trying to post about every two weeks, but life has this pesky habit of getting in the way.**

 **That being said, I want to thank you all for your ongoing support in my absence! It's most of the reason I came back.**

 **Not, without further ado, _The Trials of a Lioness_!**

* * *

Hazel's birthday party finally arrived. The party had grown to include more people than anticipated, so Hazel had sought permission from Professor McGonagall to hold it in a large abandoned classroom in the Transfiguration hallway. The professor consented, but insisted that Hazel and her friends were entirely responsible for cleanup.

So, after dinner that Thursday night, Hazel dressed in an adorable purple A-line dress and had Veronica do her makeup and hair and made her way to the classroom. Felix had put on some music and hung the decorations and hung a giant banner that said, 'Happy Birthday Hazel!' on the far wall.

" _Bon anniversaire!_ Do you like the room? _"_ Felix said as she pulled him into a hug.

"Felix, it's absolutely perfect! Thank you so much!" she exclaimed, looking around at the impeccably decorated room. Felix and Veronica had agreed on a theme, 'Evening Enchantment,' even though Hazel thought having a theme was a bit cheesy. Everything was decorated in shades of dark blue, purples, with some pinks and greys here and there. A layer of balloons coated the ceiling, their ribbons dangling down and tickling the tops of everyone's heads.

"Pull one down." Felix told her, motioning to the ribbons. She pulled one and, on Veronica's instruction, popped the plum-colored balloon. A small stage, no bigger than a salad plate, floated in front of her on which some small figurines told an abridged story of Cinderella before disappearing in a puff of smoke.

Hazel clapped when it was over, looking back to Felix who explained.

"There is a different story in each purple balloon. The blue ones contain fortunes, and the grey ones are facts about you that people might not know."

Hazel's eyes looked up and she grabbed the nearest grey balloon she could find, popping it and hearing Veronica's voice explain that she didn't like cauliflower.

"That's true! This is incredible!" she hugged Veronica and Felix in turn before going to make the rounds.

Most everyone was already there and she grabbed some punch (that had been spiked with firewhiskey by an unknown source), making the rounds through her Beauxbatons acquaintances and friends from other houses. From Gryffindor Lee, Angelina, and, much to her surprise, George had shown up. He greeted her with a smile and pulled her off to the side to speak a bit more privately.

"I'm really sorry about everything that's happened these last few weeks." He apologized.

"It's not your fault." She offered, shifting uncomfortably. She was dying to ask how Fred was, and as if he read her mind he answered her.

"I tried to get him to come tonight. Told him there'd probably be a bunch of people here and that it's your birthday and you're still our friend and he would regret skipping it." His hands were deep inside his pockets and he seemed to find the floor very interesting, as his gaze was fixed there.

"He didn't budge." She assumed.

"No. He's incredibly stubborn, especially when he knows he's wrong. But he did give me this to give to you." He handed her a small blue box from inside his pocket and she took it gently, opening the lid and gasping at what she saw.

"He bought it when you two were still together. He's just been staring at it for weeks. Told me to give it to you." He muttered, watching her reaction intently.

Inside the box was a bangle that looked like a small daisy that one had happened to twirl around their wrist. The band was green like a stem and the daisy's petals were pearlescent white and soft to the touch despite being made of metal. Hazel was in awe at the magic that had undoubtedly gone into its construction. She bit her lip as she felt tears well in her eyes, but she blinked them away.

"Can you tell him that it's…just wonderful. I love it." she asked of George, who nodded and promised to pass along the message before making his exit.

Not wanting to lose it among the small mountain of gifts that were precariously piled on a desk, Hazel slid the bracelet onto her wrist. It fit perfectly.

"Ooh, that's pretty! Who's it from?" Veronica asked from over her shoulder.

Hazel cleared her throat, "It's from…Fred." She said, saying his name for the first time in weeks. Before Veronica could comment further, Hazel continued, "Please don't tell Felix."

"Okay. I won't."

The party continued until half an hour before curfew, when Professor McGonagall popped her head in to inform them they had half an hour to clean up. Everyone pitched in and clean up took no time at all. Felix offered to walk her back to the common room and she consented, hoisting the bag of presents onto her shoulder. Veronica winked at her, stole the bag of gifts, and walked back with Angelina.

"Did you have fun tonight?" he asked as they set out.

"I did. Thank you so much, this was probably the best birthday at Hogwarts I've ever had."

He smiled, "I am glad."

They walked in silence for a while, the only sound was the wind whipping through the corridors. Hazel could smell the crispness in the air and wished she'd brought a jacket. When they hit the Fat Lady's corridor, Felix put a hand on her arm to stop her.

"Before we get all the way back to the Fat Lady, I have one more surprise for you." From inside his jacket he extracted an impossibly large package, which was beautifully wrapped in white paper.

"For you." He said, handing it to her. It was large, thin, and perfectly square and she had a sneaking suspicion that it was a vinyl record of some sort. She carefully tore the wrapping away and gasped loudly, nearly dropping it.

It was The Beatles' Abbey Road, signed by all four Beatles. From the wear on the corners it had to be vintage and all Hazel could do was stare at it, her jaw at her feet.

"Felix…I…I don't know what to say." She said dazedly, looking up at him gratefully.

"You don't need to say anything. The look on your face was much better than silly words could be." He said, stepping closer to her and brushing her hair out of her face as he lowered his voice. "You look so beautiful tonight."

She looked up from the album at his face. The look in his eyes was soft and kind, and his hand lingered on her cheek. He looked like he wanted nothing more than to kiss her and she was shocked to find that a small part of her wanted to kiss him too.

She stepped away from him suddenly, "I'm…not ready." She explained, swallowing hard and her left hand finding the bracelet on her right wrist.

"I understand." He said nonchalantly, taking a step back of his own and raising his hands innocently.

"I should go inside before curfew." She said, awkwardly pointing to the Fat Lady portrait.

"Of course," he took her hand and kissed her fingers gently like the handsome prince that he was. "Good night, Hazel. And happy birthday."

"Thank you, Felix. Good night." She said as she watched him walk away. She let out a long sigh before turning and entering the common room, going straight up to her bed and falling asleep before her head hit the pillow.

* * *

The next day was a Practical day in Transfiguration, and Hazel was forced to share a workstation with Fred. She hadn't bothered to take his gift off that morning, as she'd woken up twenty minutes late and had to rush down to the Great Hall to get breakfast. As a result, her uniform was rumpled and her tie crooked, but the bracelet remained perfectly perched on her wrist.

She'd rolled up the sleeves of her jumper and white button down shirt, as the temperature in the Transfiguration classroom was always about twenty degrees too hot. As a result the students were lazily attempting to transfigure pairs of slippers into rabbits. Not much work was getting done because of the heat. Even Professor McGonagall was slumping a little at her desk.

Hazel kept her attention on the slippers and tried to ignore the cold breeze coming from Fred's part of the table while she practiced the wand motion for the umpteenth time.

Fred kept his mouth clamped shut and tried to ignore her as he worked on the movements, but he caught a flash of white out of the corner of his eye and he couldn't help but look.

On her wrist was the bracelet he'd bought in Hogsmeade a few weeks prior. He'd been staring at it since she'd broken up with him and it had strangely gone missing from his room last night, her birthday. He rounded on her quickly, grabbing her wrist tightly and forcing her to drop her wand on the table.

"Where did you get this?" he demanded, his brown eyes a raging inferno. She looked up at him.

"Ow! George gave it to me last night." She explained and the vice on her arm disappeared as Fred bounded across the room to his brother. They were out of earshot, but Hazel could tell from their animated conversation that Fred hadn't sent the bracelet with George. Her heart sunk as she realized he'd probably never meant for her to have it.

She focused on trying to master spell until he came back.

"Happy birthday, I guess." He muttered angrily. His words were so laced with rage that she didn't respond. If she had, she would've told him that it was the best present she'd ever gotten and that she missed him and wanted more than anything to be his friend again.

Instead, she remained silent.

* * *

That evening, as she sat half-listening to the hurried French conversation taking place next to her and staring off into space, Hazel noticed a flash of red hair heading toward her. Her heart momentarily stopped, but started again once she realized which Weasley it was. It was George, who had a disconcertingly large scowl on his face. He sat in the open spot next to Hazel and she looked at him quizzically.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Protesting." He answered simply, tucking in to the table.

"Protesting _what_ exactly?"

"Yours and my brother's pig-headedness. You two need to get your heads on straight and be friends again, this whole bloody situation is driving everyone mad. Lee and Angelina miss you, Fred misses you, _I_ miss you. The only one of us you talk to anymore is Veronica and that's not bloody fair."

Hazel sighed, biting her lip and choosing her words carefully before responding, "I know it's not. But what happened with me and Fred created a complicated situation and I thought it would just be easier if I took myself out of the picture."

"But we don't want you out of the picture! We want you in the picture, front and center with a big stupid smile on your face!" George joked, shoving her shoulder a bit.

"If you can get Fred to talk to me again, then I'm in. But I highly doubt that will happen."

"Trust me, mate, I'm one step ahead of you." He said with a smirk before changing the subject to what everyone else in the school was talking about: the First Task of the Triwizard Tournament. "Are you excited for the First Task?"

"Surprisingly, yeah. What do you think it'll be? Veronica thinks it'll involve hippogriffs, since Hagrid has tons of them." She speculated.

"As it happens, I happen to have some insight into exactly that question." George bragged, his smirk becoming smugger as she perked up.

"Oh really? Care to share?"

"Alright, but you have to promise to keep this to yourself." He said, leaning closer and lowering his voice.

"I promise, now spill!" Hazel agreed excitedly. She had a mischievous light in her eyes that George hadn't seen in weeks.

"You remember my brother Charlie? He works in Romania…"

"Yeah, I met him at the World Cup."

"Exactly, well, he came for the cup but stayed to help import some things he works with for the Tournament."

"Import what? What could he possibly work with that would be applicable to the Tournament?"

George's smirk turned into a face-cracking smile, "Charlie works with dragons."

* * *

On one of the rare afternoons when Hazel found herself without homework or plans with Veronica or Felix, she sat in an archway in the Transfiguration courtyard reading her mother's seventh-year diary when she stumbled across an interesting entry.

' _December 12, 1976,_

 _I got an interesting letter from home today. My father seems to have gotten it into his head that I should get married the second I graduate. Apparently he's been talking to Harold Ogden of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey, whose dimwit son Martin graduated last year. He wants to buy Ogden's and incorporate it into Nithercott's. This would nearly double our profits for the low low price of one daughter._

 _I've always known my father would try to marry me off to a good wizarding family, but not so soon! I'm barely seventeen! This whole situation is making me think of taking the Sirius way out. I'm going to be sick._

 _Daniel's written me again. His mum isn't doing too well. Her cancer is back and more aggressive than last time. I only wish I could be there for him. He's too sensitive and kind for this to happen for him. I'm making a point to spend some serious time with him over Christmas; he could use some major cheering up.'_

Hazel knew that Grandma Amelia had battled cancer before Hazel was born. It was horribly ironic that what had actually killed her was a car crash. Her suspicions from that summer were all but confirmed as well; her mother's parents _had_ been trying to set her up with Felix as a way of brokering a business deal.

Luckily, once her grandfather had figured out exactly how much the winery would've cost him out of pocket he dropped the idea and Hazel was free to like Felix without worrying about any strings attached.

And like him she did. Despite her best efforts, she was finding herself more and more attracted to him. After the birthday party and Fred's reaction to the bracelet, she decided it was best to move on. Fred wasn't going to forgive her anytime soon, so their road back to friendship was a long one. From where she currently stood, there was no end in sight. He was mad at her and he was going to stay mad at her as long as she was Felix's friend.

She reread the diary entry and looked up at the cloudy November sky. She heard some shouts of "Potter stinks!" and looked in that direction to see none other than Harry Potter stalking across the courtyard toward her.

"Hello Harry." She greeted. To her knowledge, she'd never exchanged more than five words with The Boy Who Lived, so the reason for his visit was a bit of a mystery to her.

"Hi Hazel. Erm…I was told to give you this." He fished in the pocket of his robe and extracted a letter with familiar handwriting on it. The look on his face was troubled to say the least. Given his history, she wasn't surprised.

"Snuffles? Why did he send you this?" she asked, looking up at Harry as he shrugged the way that all teenage boys shrug.

"He said I should give it to you so he could save an owl a trip."

"Okay. Thanks, Harry. And erm…good luck next week." She said, taking the letter from his outstretched hand. Considering that he was the boy's godfather, she didn't know why she was surprised to find out Sirius had been in communication with Harry.

"Thanks, I'm gonna need it." He mumbled before stalking away. Hazel opened her letter from Sirius. It was much shorter than his first letter, only half a page long at most.

 _'Dear Hazel,_

 _After my last letter I can understand your terse reply. I did not mean to upset you, and have included a small something for your birthday. I am sorry I could not celebrate it with you. Perhaps one day I can take you around London to your mum and my favorite haunts._

 _The real reason for this letter is that I would like to talk face-to-face. I will meet you in the Gryffindor Common room on the 22_ _nd_ _at half-past midnight. There have been some suspicious happenings going on and I just want to clue you in._

 _Anyway, I am fine and still in good spirits. Hope your birthday was spectacular!_

 _Love,_

 _Snuffles'_

She smiled, knowing he was still in her grandparents' stills. Absentmindedly, she wondered how much longer her grandfather would put up with him staying there and where he would go once Angus's patience ran out. She looked in the envelope and pulled out a wallet-sized moving photograph of Sirius and her mother sharing a pint. He had taken the photo himself, turning the camera around to take the picture with one hand and holding his pint in the other, clinking it against her mother's.

She smiled and tucked the picture in the pocket of her robes, heading back inside the castle.

* * *

So, two days before the first task, Hazel found herself in the empty common room reading a book and waiting for the last few people to vacate so she could talk to Sirius alone. She was laying on the floor directly in front of the fireplace, basking in the warmth like a cat.

It was twenty-five after midnight and she saw that the common room was mostly empty when she popped her head over the back of the couch. Save for a particular redhead sitting in an overstuffed armchair, staring at her.

"I was wondering when I'd get you alone." Fred said, tenting his fingers in front of him. Hazel briefly thought that he resembled a movie villain and had to banish the thought to keep from laughing as she noticed Leia sleeping on his lap.

"Why?"

He sighed and got up off the chair, eliciting a disgruntled meow from Leia who skittered up the girls' stairs. "George told me to come apologize so you would come back to our little group." He rubbed the back of his head and looked away from her, "So…I'm sorry. I overreacted and pushed you away and made a mess of everything."

Her heart was in her throat, but she managed to croak out, "I'm sorry too. I shouldn't've-"

"Don't start with the shoulds and should nots. We could be here all night." The corners of his lips twitched up into his characteristic smirk and Hazel's heart started racing. He was trying to mend fences, what she had been hoping for weeks, but at the worst possible time. If Sirius arrived and Fred was still here, what would Fred do? He knew Sirius was harmless but he was still a wanted man with a price on his head, and with the twins' recent financial woes courtesy of Ludo Bagman, she didn't know what would happen.

"Yes, we could be."

"I'm also sorry about your birthday present. And what I did to your wrist, I really didn't mean to hurt you."

"Oh, you didn't. Did George tell you…?"

"Yeah, he gave me your message." He looked bashfully at his feet and shuffled them against the carpet. They stood awkwardly for a moment before she broke the silence with the question she'd been dying to know the answer to.

So…are we friends again?" she asked timidly.

"No."

Her heart dropped like a lead balloon. The small flicker of light she'd seen at the end of the tunnel was snuffed out as he walked toward the boys' stairs. At the last second he turned, one hand on the stone archway as he added, "But we'll get there. If you come back, of course."

That flicker of light came back as a ray of pure sunshine and suddenly the tunnel didn't seem so long. Her heart soared and she put her fingers to her lips, which were spread in a large smile. She was so giddy that she didn't hear the fireplace spit and sputter behind her as Sirius' face appeared in the flames.

The man had to clear his throat thrice before she came back to the ground.

"Oh! I'm sorry Sirius, I didn't see you there." She said quietly, kneeling before the fireplace. His face looked fuller than the last time she'd seen him. His hair was combed back neatly and she took this as an excellent sign of his living condition.

"I haven't got much time, and there is much I need to tell you. There are strange things happening at Hogwarts, Hazel, and while they don't exactly pertain to you it is important that you know about them. These are dark times." The visage of her mother's cousin half-whispered quickly.

"You sound like Moody. What's going on?"

"Harry's name coming out of the Goblet of Fire, the events at the World Cup, Bertha Jorkins' disappearance, all of these things individually do not add up to much but together…it's beginning to look like last time."

"Last time _what_ , Sirius, you're being awfully cryptic." Her knees were beginning to ache against the stone hearth and she wanted to go upstairs and tell Veronica about what had just happened with Fred.

"The last time He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named rose to power."

Hazel's blood ran cold upon hearing those words. She had suspected something of the like when she'd seen the Dark Mark plastered on the front cover of the Daily Prophet, but had hoped her grandfather was right in his assumption that it was just drunken antics gone too far.

"As I mentioned, this doesn't particularly pertain to you. I am sure that you are perfectly safe for the moment." He assured her upon seeing the look of fear that crossed her face.

"But what happens when that moment is up?" she asked ponderously, not really looking for an answer. Sirius gave her one anyway. He hadn't meant to scare her; just warn her.

"When that moment comes, Hazel, I know you will be as brave as your mother was and do what's right. You will have your friends and grandparents and me by your side. There is no need to fear the future. You should focus on your present, enjoy being young!" the face in the fire said.

"Oh right because being young is _so_ great." She said dryly, with a hint of bitterness in her voice.

Sirius laughed, "I know for a fact that it isn't, but out of curiosity what makes you say that?"

"I've got some…relationship issues." She shifted uncomfortably, unsure if she wanted to spill all of her secrets to him.

"I was no stranger to those in my time," he said wistfully. "Perhaps I can be of some help in this regard?"

Hazel sighed, figuring she had nothing to lose before she heard a noise coming from the boys' stairs.

"Someone's coming! I'll write you about it!" she said quickly. Sirius nodded quickly before vanishing. Hazel stood and brushed the soot off of her knees and hands before turning around to see Fred, clad in his pajama bottoms and a Quidditch tee, standing in the archway.

"I thought I heard something…voices, you know." He muttered, ruffling his red hair and looking at his feet bashfully.

"I have no idea to what you are referring." She smiled at him, looking at him as if he was crazy.

Fred shrugged and turned back toward the stairs.

"Hey Hazel?" he asked over his shoulder.

"Yes Fred?"

"Next time tell Sirius I said hello." She could hear the smirk in his voice and she couldn't help but smile as well.

"Mum's the word, eh?" she replied, grabbing a book off of the coffee table and plopping down on the couch.

"As you wish." He muttered to himself before climbing the stairs once more.

* * *

 **Go ahead, tell me how much you missed me!**


	26. Of Whiskey and Betrayals

**Hello Hello Hello!**

 **So I realize that I haven't posted in...a long-ass time and that's kinda mean of me! Especially with where I left things between Hazel and Fred. Well, the bad news is that things don't get much better in this chapter...but they will! Eventually!**

 **I swear upon my cats Ororo and T'challa (yes, those are their real names and yes T'challa is a black boy cat cuz I'm a nerd) I will make every effort to post more often! I'm also thinking of turning this into a multi-story story, ending just after GOF and picking back up before OOtP.**

 **Thank you for all the favorites/follows/reviews in the interim! I love getting feedback from you! So...here goes nothing! Chapter 26, AWAYYY!**

* * *

Hazel sat with Lee and Angelina before the First Task. Veronica was sitting in the cluster of Beauxbatons students with Robert, whom she insisted she was "just friends with." Hazel knew better than to believe that lie, but was happy for her friend.

She stood in the stands, wishing she'd put on another layer before she'd left the school. The late November chill ripped through her thin jacket to the Doors t-shirt she wore over a long sleeve tee and she pulled her hat down lower on her head as she shivered, needing the damn thing to start already.

"Hey mates, what's on?" George asked, sidling up to his three friends with Fred, and their very large cash box, in tow. Fred squeezed in between Angelina and Hazel, while George took the open spot on Hazel's other side.

"I think we should be asking you that question." Angelina said, eyeing the suitcase-turned-betting-box Fred had carefully put at his feet. The way her eyes lingered on Fred made jealousy flare up inside Hazel, but she guiltily pushed it away. She'd had her chance and blew it, she reminded herself, and Angelina was one of her best mates. Best of luck to them both.

"We decided to diversify our sources of financial income." George explained over the rumble of the crowd. As he leaned over the banister to ask Lee a question he noticed Hazel trying to hide how badly she was shivering. Her hands trembled as she gripped her elbows, so George wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into a tight embrace.

The heat from his body helped thaw out her frozen skin and the shivering abated. "Thank you." She said, looking up into George's face and wrapping her arms around his waist.

"Any time."

Fred saw the look that his twin and his ex-girlfriend shared and, even though it was innocent, he didn't like it one bit. Not to be outdone, Fred wrapped an arm around Angelina's shoulders chivalrously.

"What are you doing?" Angelina asked him, a hint of flirtation in her voice.

"Just thought you could use some body heat." He flirted back.

"Well in that case I could use some more."

"As you wish, love." Fred said as he pulled her closer. Hazel caught the words coming out of his mouth directed toward Angelina and she momentarily buried her face in George's chest before letting go and backing away from him.

"Something wrong?" George asked, noticing her downtrodden expression and figuring it had something to do with a certain ebon beauty flirting with his brother.

"No, just didn't want to hog all your warmth." Her expression changed to one of empty cheer to placate him as Professor Dumbledore and the staff exited the champion's tent.

She watched as the champions bested their dragons, flinching when Cedric's dragon burned his gorgeous face and when the ornery Hungarian Horntail slashed Harry's shoulder. Hazel periodically jumped back into George's arms to warm up, and Fred's arm stayed on Angelina's shoulder throughout the task, only leaving to cheer on whichever champion (or dragon) was up.

This "just friends" thing was going to be difficult, she thought to herself as she filed out of the stadium with the crowd, trying to get lost in it so as to have a moment to herself. She wasn't that lucky, however, as she heard a familiar voice over her right shoulder.

"So, what did you think?" asked Felix as he joined her, walking in stride with her as the crowd thinned a bit on the path back toward the school.

"It was exciting, but nerve wracking. I bet Robert is extra glad he wasn't chosen now, eh?" she laughed.

"Yes, I believe he is. I also saw you and one of the gingers getting awfully close." He accused.

"That was nothing. George and I are friends, that's all."

"Just as you and the other one were?"

"No, that was different. And you know what, I'm getting really sick of this whole back and forth dichotomy. If you want to be my friend, you should be fine with my other friends. I'm done having to choose." She said angrily, shoving her frozen hands in the thin jacket pockets. She was sick to death of feeling torn in two directions, between her new friends and old. So even though the word 'DISASTER' flashed behind her eyes in big neon letters, she had to give it a go.

"I would happily make nice with your friends. I just don't think they will return the favor."

"You shouldn't be so judgmental. My friends are very cool." She said as they entered the covered bridge, which acted as a wind tunnel and sent Hazel's hair flying backward and her teeth chattering violently. There was nothing she hated more weather-wise than a cold winter wind that sucked away every ounce of warmth from her body.

"Here, take my coat." Felix said, pausing to remove his stylish and warm-looking navy peacoat. Hazel started to protest, but he'd already slipped it over her shoulders.

"Do not worry, I won't freeze. I am hot-blooded." He said with a devious wink that made her cheeks flush. Damn him and all his charm, Hazel thought as she pushed her arms through the arms of his coat. It smelled like him; coffee and mahogany with a hint of something that smelled an awful lot like her grandfather's stills.

The smell was invigorating; awakening something in her that she thought was dead. A fluttering in her stomach that pushed its way up to form a smile on her lips. It was passion. It was need.

She grabbed his hand and led him through the throngs of people into the castle, up three flights of stairs and to a familiar tapestry. They ducked behind it and Hazel opened the door on the small, hidden room. Before he could light a fire in the fireplace, as was his intention when he pulled out his wand, Hazel pounced on him, kissing his stubbly jaw and cheeks and grabbing a fistful of his chocolate hair.

Felix was taken aback by her sudden interest in him and was briefly concerned with her motives, but his mind quickly lost control of all rational thought with the feeling of her fingers in his hair and her warm lips on his skin. He pushed her away slightly and looked into her eyes meaningfully, nonverbally asking for her consent. She gave him a tiny nod and in less than a second he cupped her face in his hands, kissing her lips forcefully.

She returned the kiss just as fervently as his hands slipped down her body and lifted her legs. With a small jump she wrapped them around his waist and continued her exploration of his mouth, gripping his strong torso as he held her against it.

She didn't care about going too fast; she didn't care about the consequences. She wanted him and was sick of feeling guilty over it. She was sick of the games; sick of the lies she'd been telling herself. Her very blood was on fire, burning away the acidic jealousy of the last few hours. She loved feeling this again, instead of having to hide her feelings for the sake of others. _Others_ who clearly did not share the same restraint.

Her fingers went to work undoing the buttons of Felix's shirt and untucking it from his trousers before pushing it off his broad, muscular shoulders. His classically beautiful chest rose from his trousers and she took a second to marvel at it before burying her face in his neck while he busied himself with her shirts. Once she was down to her bra she dropped her legs to the floor and led him over to the bed.

She took her time with him, savoring every moment, every moan, every sigh. His ministrations drove her wild. He knew exactly what he was doing and exactly how to make her scream his name, which she did as she was hit with wave after wave of pleasure.

When they finished she leisurely began to dress. Felix, on the other hand, dressed quickly and kissed her forehead, citing a Beauxbatons party for Fleur as the reason for his quick departure. Hazel put her shoes on and slipped into the hall unnoticed, heading back to the Gryffindor Common Room, where she found a party already started.

"Hey Hazel, where've you been?" George asked jovially, his face a bit flushed from drink as he pushed a bottle of ale into her hand.

"I just walked around for a bit. Clear my head." She dismissed, and George nodded before joining his brother in hoisting Harry onto their shoulders, who in turn hoisted his golden egg above his head triumphantly.

"Who wants me to open it?" he asked loudly and the entire room cheered, so he raised a hand to the clasp.

The sound that came out of the egg could only be described as every stereotypically unpleasant sound all mixed together. Nails on a chalkboard, a revving chainsaw, and all of disco music rolled into one, loud screech. Hazel covered her ears and ducked with every other Gryffindor as Harry closed the egg.

She uncovered her ears in time to hear Fred discharge everyone so Harry and Ron could have a moment alone. He sauntered over to Hazel and looked her up and down.

"And what's new with you, Hazel?" he asked knowingly and she could feel the color drain from her face.

"What do you mean?" she kept her aloof façade going so he didn't detect what she'd done that afternoon with Felix.

"Just asking what was new, no need to get your knickers in a twist."

"Oh…well if you must know, my grandfather has asked to meet me in Hogsmeade next weekend to give me my birthday present. So it must be something big." She bragged a bit.

"Yes, well I hope for the sake of your ego that it is. Excuse me." He said, catching the eye of someone across the room and leaving her standing there, clutching her bottle of ale. She took a long pull and Angelina crept up to her, nudging Hazel with her hip.

"Hey there, Angelina." Hazel said distractedly.

"Hey. Did you enjoy the tournament?" Angelina gave her a goofy look and fluttered her eyelashes at Hazel.

"Yeah, it was exciting. What's up with you?"

"Noooothing." She drew out the word and Hazel knew she was hiding something big.

"What is going on, Ang?"

"You'll never guess what happened on the walk back from the tournament! Fred asked me to Hogsmeade next weekend!" Angelina squeaked excitedly. Hazel forced a smile, but she could feel her insides smoldering in an awfully uncomfortable way.

"That's great!" she said with fake enthusiasm. She wanted to be happy for her friend, she really did, but she obviously wasn't as over Fred as she thought she was. She suddenly felt sick to her stomach upon realizing her latest mistake; She wasn't over Fred, she had been trying to get back at him by having sex with Felix.

Not that she hadn't felt anything for the handsome Frenchman. She thought she could be falling for him, especially after her birthday party and how supportive and patient he'd been waiting for her to get over Fred. And she had really tried to get over him, but all roads seemed to lead back to the redheaded prankster. No matter what she did, she couldn't break free of him. She was trapped, and she felt resentment brewing in her veins.

Angelina had been going on and on about what she was going to wear and what she thought he had planned for them to do and how she would wear her hair. Hazel nodded politely, sucking down the ale a bit faster than she intended before excusing herself up to the dorms.

She closed the curtains around her bed, wanting, no, _needing_ privacy. The events of the day had sapped her of any energy she had. She desperately needed a nap before dinner.

However, she found herself unable to sleep. She tossed and turned but either couldn't find a comfortable position or her mind wouldn't slow down. Her thoughts were racing, visions of Felix's body on top of hers and Fred's arms around Angelina flashing behind her closed eyelids.

She lay on her back and stared up at the canopy of her bed, sighing loudly. Leia chirped as she hopped up on the bed and settled on Hazel's chest, Hazel stroked the cat's fur absentmindedly.

It was two hours until dinner, and Hazel couldn't sleep.

* * *

She walked with Veronica and Robert to Hogsmeade, leaving them at Madame Puddifoot's for their date before heading over to the Hog's Head. If there was a bar within a mile, her grandfather could be found there. She entered the dusty bar and coughed as she inhaled some smoke, which floated above her head in a heavy cloud. As usual, her grandfather was perched on a bar stool with a glass of Nithercott neat in his hand. She tapped him on the shoulder and he turned, his wizened face brightening at the sight of her.

"Hello my dear! How've you been?" he asked jovially, wrapping his arms around her.

"I'm good, how are you? How's gran?" she replied, returning his hug.

"She's well. I will tell her you said hello."

"And…erm…Snuffles?" she inquired. She'd sent him a letter detailing her latest situation with Fred and Felix, minus the sex part, but she hadn't heard back yet. Considering his living situation, it wasn't that much of a surprise.

Her grandfather shifted uncomfortably, "Yes well, he decided it was time to move on. Left us a very kind letter of thanks, mentioned that he had something important to do, and simply…disappeared."

Hazel's heart fell. Where had he gone? Was that something important something to do with his warnings during their meeting in the common room?

All she could manage on that topic was a small, "Oh," as she looked down at her wringing hands.

"I'm sure he's alright, dear. Anyway, I met you here today to give you something and share some rather exciting news with you. Aberforth, if you would," her grandfather said to the barkeep, who had been wiping a dirty glass with an even dirtier rag since she'd walked in. The grizzled, hirsute man nodded subtly and bent down to retrieve something, which ended up being a crate that he placed on the bar in front of Hazel. He pried opened the top and pulled out a bottle, handing it gingerly to Angus, who handed it off to Hazel.

"Do you know what this is, Hazel?" he asked in a leading sort of fashion. She looked down at the label, which read, 'Nithercott's Finest Firewhiskey 17-Year Special Reserve; Hazel Single Malt' in fancy script. The bottle was also tall and square-shaped, whereas the normal Nithercott's bottles were pear-shaped.

"It's a special reserve bottle, but what does the Hazel Single Malt mean?" She had an inkling about what it meant, but didn't let on in case she was wrong.

"That is a special non-peated blend that I barreled the day you were born. It has been ageing your entire life in barrels made of hazel wood, highly unusual, by the way, and very difficult to make even with magic. I've been saving it for when you came of age and," he took the two glasses that Aberforth had fetched for him and opened the bottle, pouring them each a finger of firewhiskey and handing her one of them, "I have been waiting a very long time to share it with you."

Hazel beamed, "Cheers, then, Gramp."

"Cheers, love."

They clinked their glasses together and, out of habit, each tapped the bottom of the glass on the bar as a moment of recognition for all of those who couldn't be there with them, namely her mother. Hazel took a sip, and was instantly in love. Without the peat, the whiskey was impeccably smooth, with hints of green apple, vanilla, and toffee.

"Wow. Gramp, that's amazing." She muttered, utterly in awe of the drink in her glass. She had eaten a light breakfast that morning and could feel the alcohol go to work in her veins.

"Thank you, love. You can take the bottle back to school with you and when you get home next summer I'll give you the case."

" _The_ case? That's it?" she pointed to the crate with the Nithercott's logo branded on the side that sat in front of her.

"Hazel barrels are very small, love. And we meant for the bottles to only go to family. I sent one over to your father on your birthday, one went to Leonard, and one is sitting on a shelf in my study. The rest will go to you," he took another sip of his Hazel Reserve and set it down, tenting his fingers in front of him, "Which brings me to my other point."

"Other point?"

"Yes. It's about…your future at the distillery. You see, Hazel, when you expressed interest in making your own career I got to thinking. You are my only grandchild, my only progeny capable of running a business as complex as Nithercott's with any sort of success. And, should you decide to become a curse breaker, or Auror, or sandwich maker, the family business and I would be left quite in the lurch."

"Gramp, that's still two years away! I've got plenty of time - !" she started but halted as he held up his hand.

"So I decided I should take on an assistant. An apprentice who would one day come to own half of the business. Well, forty-seven and a half percent, taking into account Leonard's five and your share of course. And I found one. Someone you know. Someone whom I believe you are quite close with."

Hazel's mind went fuzzy; she was going to arbitrarily lose half of her legacy? To whom?

"Wh-who?" she stuttered, the whiskey ripping through her body like a racing wildfire. She didn't know if she wanted to hear the answer, but she knew she had to. The curiosity would eat her up.

"Felix LaMaire. He just agreed to it this week. I also believe that he is presently at Hogwarts, I should've invited him along."

The words slapped her across the face and she stared at her grandfather's smile, her jaw hanging slack. She downed the rest of her firewhiskey and poured herself more. Special reserve be damned, she needed some help digesting this news.

She downed the second glass and slammed it against the bar, glaring holes into it with her eyes.

" _Felix?_ You're giving _half_ of my _birthright_ to _him_? You trust your legacy in the hands of some French _stranger_?" she said steadily, controlling her volume and inflection carefully.

"He's hardly a stranger! Felix is a lovely boy; your grandmother and I got to know him quite well over the summer. And from the things I hear, so did you."

"Grandpa!" she exclaimed indignantly, turning her eyes back to him.

"I do trust my business to him and, should you two…someday…work out your differences and see fit to marry then all the better. Together, you two will own the entire business! Minus Leonard's five percent, that is."

Hazel's organs dropped out of her as she realized what he was doing. He was manipulating her into a relationship with Felix by threatening her inheritance. She poured herself another and downed it. Even though the vineyard idea hadn't worked out, he was still trying to get her to be with Felix. Why? Felix was a pureblood, but so were Fred and George. He was wealthy, to be sure, but so were her grandparents.

As if he had read her mind he continued offhandedly, "Also, did you hear his uncle was promoted? He's the new French Minister for Magic!"

There was her answer. He wanted Felix's connections, not Felix himself. She felt like she was going to be sick. The color drained from her face as she grabbed the bottle off the bar, hiding it in her coat lest any professors be in village and catch her with it.

"Thank you for the Single Malt, Gramp. I'll see you at Christmas." She muttered, giving him a loose hug before bolting from the dingy, dirty pub.

She knew it was rude to just leave him there but she didn't give a damn. She felt used, controlled, just like a little doll. Like her opinions and goals and wishes didn't matter. She was being pushed into a future that she didn't want, and bitter resentment boiled in her gut. Or maybe that was the three shots of firewhiskey on an empty stomach. She now completely understood her mother's motives, not that she had ever doubted or faulted her for them. She'd felt the subtle push toward a proper wizarding match for a long while, but now it felt more like a shove. Her eyes began to prickle with frustrated tears and she bit her bottom lip to prevent them from falling.

Hazel marched her way through the village and back down to Madame Puddifoot's. She needed to talk to Veronica, get a second opinion on things. She burst into the tiny pink teashop and spotted Veronica in the corner cuddling close to Robert, who was busying himself twirling a lock of her long brown hair around his finger.

Hazel walked over and cleared her throat. Veronica looked up and fake smiled at her, but Hazel could see the warning look in her green eyes.

"Hazel, back so soon?" she asked in a sickly sweet voice.

"Yes, and I really need to talk to you."

"Can't it wait? I'm on a date!"

"Oui, she is all mine this afternoon. You can talk to her tonight." Robert chimed in. Hazel shot him a look, but his eyes were fixed on Veronica's face. It was obvious that she wasn't going to get Veronica alone.

"Fine. Tonight then." Hazel muttered, scuffing her shoe on the pink tile floor before turning and making her exit.

She wandered through the village of Hogsmeade aimlessly, careful to avoid the area around the Hog's Head. After about an hour she made her way back up the path to the castle, lost in thought.

When last week did Felix agree to be Angus's apprentice? After their afternoon in bed together? Was Hazel's hand in marriage a condition of their agreement? Or was it offered at all? So many questions like those rolled around in her head as she sauntered up to the Gryffindor common room, which thankfully was mostly empty. She hid the bottle under her bed up in the dorms before heading back down, opening her Transfiguration textbook.

She occupied her mind with homework until dinner, where she inevitably ran into Felix. She sat by herself as many of her friends were still in Hogsmeade, her eyes fixed on her plate when Felix materialized next to her.

"So…how is your grandfather?" he asked. He had skipped the trip, citing a rather large assignment that was due on Monday morning.

"He's fine. He gave me some interesting news today."

"Oh?" Felix intoned innocently.

"Yes, it seems that you will someday own half of what is rightfully mine. If I expect to own all of it, I have to marry you. How interesting is that?" she asked rhetorically.

"Hazel, you don't understand…"

"No, I think I do. I just have one question. Was us having sex a trial run? You just trying to see how I am in the sack before you agree to marry me and take half of my family's company?" Her voice rose dangerously as she glared daggers at his beautiful face.

"I just want to be part of Nithercott's. I happen to like the business and I think I can learn a lot from your grandfather. It has nothing to do with you."

"Bullshit."

"Fine! He did bring you and your shares into it, but that's not the point! Our afternoon together was what I wanted for so long, Hazel, and it was so wonderful! Why are you letting this get in the way?" He moved a little closer to her and brushed her hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. She flinched away from him as his fingers brushed against her cheek.

"Because you and my grandfather seem to have the idea in your heads that I will be complicit in the two of you planning my future behind my back. Everything with you feels tainted now."

"What is so wrong with planning the future? What would be so terrible being married to me and owning your family's business together?"

"Because I don't love you!" she blurted, much louder than she had expected to. Her words echoed off the walls and she turned beet red, clamping her hands over her mouth. Felix's beautiful features turned dark and he stood, moving swiftly away from Hazel as she ducked her head.

It was true. She didn't love him. Sure, she cared about him and didn't want to see him as hurt and embarrassed as he had just been, and perhaps in time she could…no. She stopped herself from that thought, knowing full well that as long as a certain redheaded troublemaker roamed the earth she would never love someone else. At least not in the way that person deserved.

She rose from the table and ran for it, not stopping until she crashed into her unmade bed, burying her face in the pillows and magically starting up the Sex Pistols' _Spunk_ album, letting the angry punk music wash over her as she tried to forget this horrible day.

* * *

 **See? Things aren't going so great for Hazel...and to find out if/how they turn around, tell me what you think in a Review!**

 **Also, just a reminder; Felix looks like Gaspard Ulliel...google him and feast on the sexiness! You're welcome.**

 ***Jazz hands* Review!**


	27. Hazel MFing Herrod

**Chapter 27! Here we go!**

 **Thank you all for the continued feedback, even though I'm horrible and have kept you hanging! I swear I'm not done here, so keep reading and reviewing!**

* * *

The next night when Veronica got back to the dorms after yet another day spent in the arms of the handsome Robert, Hazel filled her in what had happened the previous day and Veronica's face blanched.

"Hazel, that's awful." She said, and Hazel didn't know what that applied to. To her grandfather and Felix's betrayal? What she'd yelled at Felix?

"I know." She said, not wanting to stew in her anger and resentment any longer. She just wanted the sun to rise on a new day so she could move on with her life.

"What are you going to do about it?" Veronica queried.

Hazel sighed and ran a hand through her hair, "I'm going to sleep. I don't want to think about it anymore, okay? But…thank you for listening." She slid the curtains around her bed closed in a manner that would suggest the slamming of a door.

"That's what friends are for." Veronica nodded and respected her friend's privacy, opening her Care of Magical Creatures textbook and reading the assigned passage on acromantulas.

* * *

Hazel spent much of the next week hiding in the library, putting the energy that she would normally have reserved for her romantic relationships into her homework. She double-checked her Potions essay again to check for any grammatical mistakes or spelling errors because recently Snape was looking for absolutely any excuse to dock points from Gryffindor. She had sneezed the other day during a pop quiz and he'd docked her five points for the disturbance.

Since Veronica was spending every spare minute with Robert and Angelina was spending every spare minute either with Fred or talking about him she felt lonelier than she had in a long while. That is, until George started joining her on her hours-long library sojourns. Their homework would often be interrupted by mad brainstorming sessions over products for Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

It was during this time that Hazel remembered exactly how much she enjoyed George's company. She'd known him for just over six years now and they'd always been friendly, but those hours in the library cemented their friendship. George was the kinder, gentler twin who upon hearing her teary rendition of her latest romantic disaster offered not only to behead Felix himself, but a shoulder for her to cry on as well.

"That's just not on!" he exclaimed, his jaw dropping much as hers had.

"Yes, well, that is the reality. He and my grandfather have been planning my future behind my back for Merlin knows how long! And when I confronted him about it he just sat there and asked me what would be so awful about being married to him! He didn't even deny it! I'm being pushed toward this future without anyone caring that it's not what I want! It's like what I want doesn't matter; like _I_ don't matter!" her voice was frantic and thick with tears that she batted away, very uncomfortable with the fact that now both of the Weasley twins had seen her cry.

"Stop that. You are Hazel Motherfucking Herrod, and you matter a hell of a lot to a lot of people. Who cares what your grandfather has planned for you? If you want to be a curse breaker, be a curse breaker! If you want to be a distiller be a distiller! If you want to artificially inseminate blast-ended skrewts, well, you can do that too! You can do anything you want, bugger all what your granddad and that ruddy Frenchman think!" George went into pep-talk mode and felt a bit better as he watched her eyes dry, especially when she laughed at her new middle name.

Hazel giggled at his speech before adding, "You want to know what's really twisted? I actually feel badly about telling Felix I don't love him. How sick is that?"

"Eh, he deserved to know the truth." George surmised, watching as Hazel's features were contorted by melancholy. Her normally bright blue eyes were a cloudy, dull grey and she had large bags under her eyes. Her lips, which looked so natural when warped into a smile, were pushed together tightly.

Hazel groaned, remembering the most recent bit of news that had Hogwarts students abuzz; The Yule Ball. The announcement had been posted on the Gryffindor bulletin board, along with a notice for all fourth years and above to attend an introductory dance class the evening of the nineteenth, the night after next. It hadn't been two weeks yet and most everyone was paired off.

"And now I'm going to have to go to this stupid ball alone and see him with one of those ridiculously beautiful Beauxbatons girls on his arm! Why do I care so bloody much?! He betrayed me! Manipulated me! I should've seen this coming! How could I have been so bloody blind?!" she cried rapidly before dropping her head onto his shoulder.

George, who was sitting in the seat next to her, wrapped his arms around her and rubbed her back soothingly. "This isn't your fault, Hazel. You weren't blind, he's just a fucking prick."

"And of course I tell _you_ all of this, so Fred will find out and spend the next week gloating, 'I was right all along about him, you should never have broken up with me, are you happy now your heart's splattered all across the floor? Har har har now you have to watch me fall for one of your best friends, har har har.'" she mimicked poorly into George's jumper. He couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't watch one of his closest friends break down like this.

"Fred never needs to know. Spot on impression, by the way." He pushed her off of his chest and held one of her shoulders to keep her upright while his other hand wiped away her tears, "And as far as this whole ball thing goes I think you're forgetting that Hogwarts' most eligible bachelor hasn't asked anyone yet." He puffed up his chest a bit and Hazel's face broke into a smile.

"But…I heard Cedric is going with Cho Chang." She joked, and he visibly deflated.

"You tit, I meant me!"

She laughed her lovely laugh, "Oh, _that's_ what you meant! Wait, why haven't you asked anyone? What happened to that girl you were carrying a torch for? You should ask her!"

George rubbed the back of his neck nervously, "That's going to be a bit awkward…"

"Awkward, schmawkward, just ask her!"

"Well, you see, Fred's already asked her so…" George averted her eyes and his entire face turned a shade of red Hazel could only describe as 'vermillion.' She furrowed her brow as the pieces fell into place, because she'd been right there when it happened.

"Oi! Angelina!" Fred had shouted across the common room, interrupting the one conversation Hazel had had with Angelina in weeks that didn't involve him.

"What?" she shouted back, a smile forming on her lips.

"Want to come to the ball with me?"

"Alright then." Angelina replied coolly, but the smile stayed on her face as Hazel's blood turned to ice. She had no right to be jealous of Angelina, but she couldn't help it. She made as quick of a getaway from her friend as possible, not wanting to appear suspicious before running to the secret room and overturning every piece of furniture that occupied it.

George fancied Angelina. It made so much sense it hurt.

"You fancy Angelina!?" she quietly exclaimed as George secured his hands over her mouth, shushing her.

"Quiet! Someone might hear you!"

She pushed his hands away and looked at him incredulously, "Does Fred know?"

"Of course not, do you think he'd've asked her if he did?"

"George, you've got to tell him!"

"No I don't."

"Yes you do!"

"No. I don't. However, if I show up to the Yule Ball with the girl he's carrying a torch for perhaps he might get a taste of his own medicine." George's voice turned bitter and Hazel was reminded of how wily the twins could be; especially to one another.

Hazel smirked evilly, "Then I'm in. On one condition."

"And what would that be?" George smiled as well, ready to pay just about any price.

"Ask me nicely?"

He snorted before rising from his chair, pushing it back and getting down on one knee with a flourish of his hands. He took one of her hands in his and she had to bite her lip to control her laughter.

"Hazel Motherfucking Herrod, would you do me the immense honor of coming to the Yule Ball with me?" he asked loudly in a posh tone, overacting the part.

"Oh of course I will, George!" she exclaimed, presenting a caricature of how Julia had reacted to her father's proposal. He rose to his feet and pulled her up into a warm hug.

"Thanks, Hazel." He muttered into her golden curls.

"Thank _you_ , George." She muttered back.

* * *

The introductory dance class was, contrary to Hazel and Veronica's preconceived notions, quite fun. From the moment Professor McGonagall picked poor Ron Weasley to help her demonstrate a simple waltz to the moment that Neville Longbottom turned out to be a natural dancer, Hazel was having a blast.

That is, until she ended up partnering with Fred. At first she'd thought it was George, but upon closer inspection she could see the telltale pockmark on the bridge of his nose. People had always wondered how she could tell the two apart when even their own mother had issues with it. The pockmark was nearly invisible and not very deep, more visible in some lighting than others, but it was there. It was her own little superpower, being able to tell the Weasley twins apart, and she wasn't eager to share her secret.

"Hazel." Fred said as she tensely took his hand and placed her other hand on his shoulder. It was the first time they'd spoken in weeks, despite having declared a truce and attempting friendship again. However since he'd decided to woo Angelina Hazel had given him a wide berth, only being near him if she was talking to George or Lee and never addressing him directly. It was a self-preservation thing.

"Fred." She replied, trying her best not to lead him since he was almost an entire beat behind the music.

"I hear you're going to the ball with George."

"You hear correctly."

"Finally decided to settle for an Englishman?"

"George and I are going as friends."

"What happened to Prince Charming?"

"Last I heard he got back together with his ex." She said through gritted teeth. He wanted her to admit that she'd been had (in more ways than one) by the Frenchman, but she wasn't about to give him the satisfaction. And it was true, not four days after their confrontation in the Great Hall Felix was back with his ex-girlfriend, Odette, who was stunningly beautiful and made Hazel feel incredibly self-conscious.

"Last you heard? But I thought the two of you were such good friends?" Fred mocked. He knew George knew something about this situation that he didn't and it was driving him mad. If he could only get Hazel to admit it, he would be satisfied.

"Yes, well, things change." She murmured, looking anywhere but his face. The smiling face with the brown eyes that danced with desire and the skillful lips that had driven her mad not two months prior. Her chest ached from how badly she wanted him back. She'd been an idiot to break up with him, and now that bridge had been burned. There was no going back to the way things were. They were stuck in the horrible, awkward, angry dance forever.

"Don't I know it." He reacted bitterly, his face darkening.

Mercifully, McGonagall ended the lesson a few minutes later, once the majority of students had managed to convince her they wouldn't embarrass themselves on the dance floor. Hazel was off like a shot the second she dismissed them, and disappeared up into her dorm before her friends had even reached the stairs.

She leaned her back against the door to her dorm, panting heavily when she noticed something glowing underneath her bed. Being a good student, she had absorbed a good bit of wariness from Professor Moody's lessons _("CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"_ ) and took her wand out of her pocket, approaching her bed slowly. She got down on the floor and used her wand to summon the object, which turned out to be the Madame Malkin's box from her grandmother.

The purple box was glowing and when Hazel laid her fingers on the smooth cardboard surface the ribbon magically unwound itself and the lid popped open an inch. Curiosity won out over her vigilance and she lifted the lid the rest of the way, gasping loudly at the contents.

The strapless column dress was as dark as midnight with an A-line waist and a floor-length skirt, the waist and bust accented with the most intricate beadwork Hazel had ever seen. The small sparkling beads looked like stars in the night sky and somehow she knew it would fit like a glove as she held it against her body.

Also in the box was a simple diamond choker with a pair of matching teardrop earrings that she knew must've cost thousands of galleons. Her stomach dropped when she realized that the dress was probably meant to impress Felix, make him want to marry her. But since she truly loved the dress and didn't want to flock to the Madame Malkin's in Hogsmeade to pick over what was left just to spite her grandparents, she decided to wear it.

The shoes looked comfortable, even with the three-inch heel at the back that was somewhat intimidating to Hazel; she was strictly a flats kind of girl.

As she was admiring the shoes Veronica and Angelina entered the room and, much like Hazel had, gasped when they saw her dress.

"Hazel where did you get that?" Veronica asked, positively spellbound as she pointed at the gorgeous dress on Hazel's bed.

"My gran gave it to me before term started. Isn't it gorgeous?"

"George is going to flip when he sees you in it!" Veronica enthused, gripping her best friend's arm.

"And every other bloke in school! Damn!" Angelina chimed in, stroking the velvety chiffon of the skirt.

"I haven't even tried it on yet, for all I know it'll look hideous." She downplayed, but before she knew it she was forced into the bathroom with the dress, Veronica and Angelina shouting at her to try it on.

She exited the bathroom and her friends were silent.

"Wow," was all Veronica could manage. Hazel examined herself in the full-length mirror and he was correct in her earlier assumption; it fit perfectly. It hugged every curve of her body in the most enticing way and, for the first time all evening, she was excited to go to the ball.

* * *

Hazel was very disappointed that she wouldn't be going home for Christmas, especially when she'd planned to help Julia out with some wedding-related decisions over the holiday. They were going to go dress shopping, and Hazel was over ninety percent positive she was going to be a bridesmaid. At her own father's wedding, how could she not be?

She was excited for the ball though. Now that she had the dress and had settled on a hairstyle all the pieces had fallen together and she allowed herself to be excited and lose herself to gossiping and speculation.

However, Professor Sinistra was strictly anti-gossip, so when she gave them some homework time in Arithmancy she expected the class to remain silent. Hazel, who was sitting between Angelina and pompous Slytherin Cal Parkes, focused on the equation in front of her. Cal, however, was focused on Hazel, as he had been nearly all term.

A folded piece of paper hit her elbow and she took it, reading the brief message on it.

' _ **Going to the ball with anyone?'**_ it said in Cal's unmistakable chicken scratch. She had sat next to him often enough to recognize it.

' _ **I don't see how that's any of your business.'**_ She wrote back and pushed it back to him.

' _ **I should think a woman of your familial connections would want to go with someone of equal status…'**_

' _ **Sod off, Cal. Work on your equations.'**_

He pushed another paper toward her, but she ignored it. She knew his parents were good friends with her grandparents; she'd met the Parkes at more than a few of her grandparent's larger functions. Caliban had usually been absent. With his latest moves toward getting her to fancy him she couldn't help but think her grandparents were behind it, pulling the strings, so she ignored him.

He kept pushing the paper at her, eventually charming it so that it flew around her head like a fly. She swatted at it and caught it in one hand, shooting him an annoyed glance before opening it and reading it.

' _ **I would much rather work on you, if you catch my meaning.'**_

Underneath he'd drawn a crude little winking smiley face that made Hazel's insides shudder. Cal wasn't bad looking, but he was a Slytherin and a haughty prick whose head was so inflated it was a wonder it was still attached to his neck. Not appealing in the least. She rolled her eyes again and crumbled the paper audibly, tossing it to the floor.

He kept quiet for the rest of the lesson, but kept shooting her glances that made her very uncomfortable. The second the bell rang she darted out of her seat, not waiting for Angelina and desperately wishing for an invisibility cloak. Once she got to the Great Hall she slowed down and casually strolled over to where George and Fred were sitting and squeezed between them.

"Oi! We were conversing!" Fred said, his tone indignant, but his brother waved him off when he noticed Hazel's expression. She looked like she was ready for a fight, her eyes storming and her brows drawn together tightly.

"That fucking prick." She muttered.

"I'm sitting right here!" Fred said, this time his tone much lighter. George waved him off again and put a reassuring arm around Hazel's shoulders.

"Which fucking prick?" he asked.

"Caliban Parkes. He kept making passes at me during class just now." She muttered before adding, "It's not a big deal."

Fred visibly bristled next to her, his hands clenching for a second before he forced them to relax. She wasn't his to defend anymore. If Parkes wanted to make inappropriate passes at her, let George deal with it. Even though his brother assured him time and time again that he and Hazel were only going to the ball as friends, Fred couldn't help but think there was something between them. There was an intimacy in their glances, their jokes, the way she kept her hand on his arm a fraction of a second too long. It was like they'd shared their deepest secrets with one another and came out the other side still friends, and Fred resented his twin for it.

"You let us know if it gets worse. If he won't take no for an answer Fred and I have a few ways to force him to, right Fred?" George asked his brother, who nodded sullenly as he stabbed at his pork chop.

"Thanks for the offer, George, but it's really not necessary. I can handle this myself." She wasn't entirely convinced of this, but didn't really see any point in getting the boys involved in something that wasn't that serious. Something in her gut told her that Parkes hadn't finished his pursuit. Not even close.

"If you insist." George said, keeping his arm around Hazel for the rest of lunch while Fred kept thinking of creative ways to remove it from his body. Then mum could tell them apart no problem.

Lunch ended and George finally took his arm back, as he had Care of Magical Creatures and Hazel had Potions with Fred. They walked to class separately, but since Snape was cruel they had to sit next to each other during lecture and work together as lab partners.

Today was thankfully a lecture so they didn't actually have to interact, which was how it had been for the last two months. They sat stiffly facing forward, like well-behaved soldiers during an inspection and mostly kept their eyes fixed on their notes.

This day was no different, except that Fred's eyes kept flicking over to her. He noticed how she held her pen (she'd long ago given up quills, opting for the fascinating Muggle writing utensils that she was very protective of) in four fingers instead of three. How she pushed her hair, which had gotten quite long since last year, over one of her shoulders to keep it out of her way. How she was an impeccable speller, and neatly wrote the date in the upper right hand corner of all of the pages.

He wasn't looking forward to most aspects of the Yule Ball. From the way Angelina kept prattling on, Hazel had a dress that would knock out the entirety of the male Hogwarts population (and some of the girls as well). He hadn't pressed his date for details because he was convinced that Hazel could wear a wet paper bag and still look absolutely stunning. A brief wish crossed his mind; he bitterly wished he could switch places with George.

 _Wait a tick,_ he thought suddenly, his eyes growing and his face cracking into a smile, _I can do just that._

* * *

The twins sat with their heads together on Fred's bed, drawing up plans for some fireworks when Fred mentioned something about the ball. It had been a touchy subject between the two, especially since George and Hazel were going together. This is why George's eyebrows skyrocketed to his hairline when Fred brought it up.

"What was that mate?" George asked his twin.

"I was just wondering what your motivations in inviting Hazel to the ball were?" Fred revealed. If he was going to get George to say yes, he had to approach this delicately.

George looked at his twin and sighed, "I already told you mate, she and that ponce broke it off and she didn't want to go alone."

Fred paused and leaned back, shaking his quill at his brother, "Nah, I don't think that's it."

" _What?_ Who are you to doubt me?"

"What's the real reason? C'mon man, out with it!"

"Out with what?"

"You've been out of sorts practically since this thing was announced. What's bothering you?" Fred pestered. If he pestered George enough, he knew he'd spill whatever secret he was hiding. He had been irritable every time Fred brought up going and had sulked through their trip to Hogsmeade to pick out their dress robes. All of this despite having the most beautiful girl in their year as his date.

" _I've_ been out of sorts?"

"Yeah, you get cross every time I bring it up." Fred remained calm, which is what he knew would drive George crazy.

"Well so do you!" George defended.

"I do not!" Fred bristled a bit at the insinuation. He only got mad when George brought up Hazel, for understandable reasons.

"Fine. You really want to know?" George half-yelled, getting to his feet and staring his brother in the face.

"Yeah, I want to know!"

"I'm in love with Angelina! I've fancied her for months and then you go and flirt with her and sweep her off her feet and now you're going to take her to the ball and one day you'll marry her and have beautiful half-black, half-ginger babies!" he exploded like one of their fireworks. Fred found this outburst a bit hilarious, as his twin was usually so even-keeled he could stand on a ship in a hurricane and not spill his drink.

Unfortunately, given the nature of this confession he felt like he'd taken a hex to the chest. How could he not have known? His brother fancied a girl and then Fred had to go and butt in and ruin everything. He felt the color drain from his face and his blood light on fire and he stood, putting a hand on George's shoulder.

"George, mate….I'm sorry, I didn't know."

George brushed the hand off his shoulder and took a few more steps away from him. "I realize that. I know you didn't mean to, but you hurt me. So when Hazel brought up the fact that she had to go alone, I asked her."

Fred was surprised, but didn't see the connection between those two events, "I-I don't see how those two things correlate."

"Oh you simple, simple man." George smirked.

"What?" he asked innocently.

"Look, you can keep lying to yourself, but you can't lie to me Fred. I know you've still got feelings for Hazel. Deep ones."

Fred's façade faltered for a moment and George knew he was right. The air in the room stilled between them and they had a twin moment where they knew exactly what the other was thinking.

" _I asked Hazel because you asked Angelina. Simple as that."_

" _Yeah. I deserve that."_

"So what are we going to do about this predicament we find ourselves in?" George asked, folding his arms across his chest.

Fred's face broke out into a large smile, "Funny you should ask…"

* * *

 **And so the plot thickens! Next chapter is the Yule Ball, how exciting is that?**

 **Review, my pretties, review!**


	28. The Yule Ball

Hazel woke up on the first day of winter break with a block of lead in her chest. She'd never known a Christmas without her father, and on top of that she would miss Julia's first dress shopping trip and ringing in the New Year with her father and future stepmother. She tried not to let it bother her, but after the term she'd had she would've very much liked to go home for at least part of the break.

Despite the load of homework, the week leading up to the ball was spent goofing around. Namely, a gigantic snowball fight with almost every Gryffindor in their year the day before the ball. Hazel was hesitant to join in, but the George and Lee double-teamed her, each standing on either side of the chair she occupied.

"C'mon Haze, you know you want to!" Lee pestered, stealing her quill and tickling her ear with it.

"The girl's team needs one more!"

"Come help prove your gender's superiority!"

"I don't think that needs to be proven, it's just a fact." Hazel taunted, closing her book.

"Well, come with us anyway. We're going to the kitchens for cocoa afterward." George offered, giving her puppy dog eyes that she just couldn't resist. She bit her lower lip and tried to prevent the smile that was spreading but lost the fight.

"Alright fine. Let me go get my coat." She said, lifting herself off the chair and running up to her dorm, only to return moments later looking adorable all bundled up. George smiled and hooked his arm over her shoulder as they exited the common room and made their way down to the Transfiguration courtyard.

Lee immediately joined Fred who was enchanting some premade snowballs nearer the far end of the courtyard. Hazel hugged George about the waist quickly, whispering, "May the best woman win," into his ear.

"Hey, I look damn good in a dress. Legs for days!" George whispered back and Hazel laughed and shivered happily as his warm breath hit her ear. They broke apart and she trotted over to Angelina, Alicia, and Veronica who were all huddled together against the cold. They welcomed Hazel into their circle and immediately peppered her with questions.

"What was that?"

"Are you and George dating?"

"How long have you two been together?"

"Merlin's balls, give it a rest! George and I are _not_ dating. We are going to the ball as friends, for the thousandth time. We are not romantically involved!" Hazel protested.

"Yet. Give it some time, Hazel, those Weasleys really grow on you." Angelina said with a sly smirk and Hazel felt her esophagus light on fire.

"You would know, right Ang? You and Fred seem like you're getting really close." Alicia said suggestively, nudging Angelina with her shoulder. Hazel could swear she saw Angelina blush and her mind started reeling with all of the possibilities of what her friend and her ex could be doing in the numerous passageways he knew about. She felt sick to her stomach and briefly thought about going back to the dorms when a snowball hit Veronica in the back of the head.

"Game on!" shouted Veronica, snatching one of the everlasting snowballs from the pile George had made. The girls followed suit and an all-out war began, divided mostly on gender lines, but it was every person for themselves.

Hazel aimed the snowball at Lee's head and hit his shoulder, which she considered a success as the snowball reformed in her hand. She spun on her heel and came face-to-face with Fred, her snowball poised to throw and his in much the same position.

"Go ahead, Hazel, you know you want to." He teased, looking at her like a predator about to devour his prey.

"I _do_ want to." She replied, desperately wanting to smush the snowball in his smug handsome face.

"So do it." He took another step toward her.

"Maybe I will." She didn't realize how close they were getting as she took a step toward him. They were within inches of each other, the closest they'd been in months. It was like they were back in the secret room, the tension between them mounting like water behind a dam.

"Just throw it!" Angelina laughed from a distance, Fred breaking their eye contact to look over at her, at which point Hazel smashed her snowball on top of his hatless head. His jaw dropped and he turned toward her threateningly, looking her up and down before tackling her to the ground.

They landed in a snow bank, the powdery snow cushioning their fall as Fred landed on top of her, pinning her to the ground with his knees and tossing loose snow over her in an attempt to bury her alive. She screamed through her laughter, trying to fend him off but failing miserably as the battle raged around them.

He was on top of her, a large smile on his face. It was almost like before they had broken up; flirting with one another in broad daylight with none of their friends the wiser. She giggled as he threw the loose white powder over her and he had to resist the urge to pull her up by her coat and kiss her as she swatted at his chest. He eventually rolled off of her and rose to his feet, helping her up as a gesture of goodwill but quickly undoing that goodwill by shoving her back into the snow bank once she'd reached her feet.

"You arse!" she shouted as she climbed out of the snow, brushing it off her shoulders and shaking it out of her hair.

"Where's that ruddy umbrella charm of yours now, Herrod?" he teased, nonchalantly tossing his snowball toward Angelina, who ducked it. Hazel flipped him the bird before commencing an attack on Alicia and Lee.

The combat raged on for another twenty minutes or so, until all parties involved were tired and battle-weary. Then they decided to retire to the kitchens, where they were served some piping hot chocolate with peppermint sticks that made Hazel wish she was home. Her dad would always make the Herrod Secret Recipe Hot Chocolate during the week leading up to Christmas and had yet to share the recipe with Hazel. She sat in a chair by the fire with her knees pulled up to her chest, staring pensively into the fire while she sipped the liquid chocolate and thought of home.

Her dad and Julia would probably be hanging the fairy lights around the fireplace and speculating what they'd gotten each other. Julia's present, Hazel knew, was a pair of tickets to a Monet exhibition in London that Julia had been dropping hints about since she'd heard of it. She'd love it.

"What's on your mind, Herrod?" asked Veronica as she sat in the chair next to Hazel's, her cheeks pink with the warmth of the room and the general merriment that floated in the room around them. Fred and George had snuck in some firewhiskey and they were now singing bawdy versions of popular Christmas carols. Lee and Angelina joined in, raising the noise level to monstrous proportions, as the kitchen was prone to echoes.

"Nothing, just missing home is all." Hazel said, unwinding her legs from underneath her.

"What's that like?" Veronica asked genuinely. Veronica's parents were high-powered Ministry workers who were rarely home, so Veronica spent much of the holidays alone in her large house. She had one older brother who was in his twenties, but he had moved to China to live in a Buddhist monastery and learn how they approached and used magic.

"Sorry. I know I shouldn't complain. It's just the first Christmas Eve I won't run around my dad's shop until I'm sure my feet will fall off. Last year we did the most sales we ever had on Christmas Eve. We celebrated with champagne and Doctor Who reruns." She remembered wistfully as she took another sip of cocoa.

"Must be nice, being so close to your family." Veronica said sadly, looking down at the untouched cocoa in her lap.

Hazel was aware of Veronica's parents-in-absentia situation, which only made her feel worse. "Yeah. If it helps, it makes holidays like this pretty tough. But you know what? I've got great friends to spend it with instead." She reached over and grabbed one of Veronica's hands in hers in an attempt to make her feel better.

Veronica turned her face to Hazel and smiled. "Yeah, we are pretty great."

* * *

The Great Hall was abuzz with excitement, even at this early hour. The Yule Ball was less than twelve hours away; Hazel was surprised that the hall wasn't deafeningly loud.

"Morning, ladies." The twins said as they sat across from Hazel and Veronica. Hazel glanced up and replied, but had to do a double take when she was struck with a strange feeling.

She couldn't tell them apart. She squinted and leaned forward, eyes darting between the two boys searching for the particular pockmark, but it wasn't there. Was it the lighting, or was her vision drastically worse than it had been the night before?

"Something wrong Hazel?" one of them asked. Fred? George? She couldn't tell.

"N-no. Everything's fine."

"Hey, did you two get _more_ identical?" Veronica queried, pointing her fork from one to the other. It was as if she had read Hazel's mind.

The twins looked at each other slyly, "What makes you say that?" the one on the left said. It sounded like George, but Hazel couldn't be sure. He winked at her devilishly and she started to suspect a prank in the works. But what kind of prank would require them to look _extra_ identical?

"Not sure, you just look…very slightly different."

"You know what it is, Freddie?" the one on the right said, hitting his brother in the chest.

"What is it George?" the one on the left responded.

"You got an exceptional night's sleep last night and got more handsome!" George joked.

"That must be it! I mean, as we all know, you're the more attractive twin." Fred admitted with false humility.

"Yes, I radiate charisma and drive the ladies wild with my good looks." George said grandly, flourishing his arms dramatically. Yes, that was definitely George. His motions were grander and a bit more effeminate than his brother's, and it was another characteristic she used to tell them apart.

"That's how you snagged the most beautiful girl in our year as your Yule Ball date, then?" Fred asked, casting a glance over to Hazel who felt a blush rise in her cheeks. Yesterday in the snow she'd felt something spark between them, but had quickly shut that feeling down. Now he was complimenting her? Could this relationship get any more impossibly confusing?

Veronica cleared her throat and, noticing how uncomfortable Hazel was getting, grabbed her friend's hand and politely excused them both.

The two girls got out into the hall and started aimlessly strolling the corridors, not saying anything but enjoying each other's company. Hazel felt as though she and Veronica had examined the Fred situation from every possible angle and there was no use in rehashing previous conversations. It was a waste of breath at this point.

Her reply from Sirius hadn't included the revelations about her grandfather's manipulations, so she had merely glanced over his letter. It was short, and largely focused on Sirius' similar situation with a girl named Marlene McKinnon. It ended with her entire family being massacred by Death Eaters and Sirius never getting to tell her how voraciously he loved her. Tragic, yes, but Hazel doubted that would happen to her and Fred. Especially not at Hogwarts.

She'd also received a letter from her grandparents that not-so-subtly mentioned that they expected to see her for their New Year's Eve party, during which Felix would be announced as her grandfather's apprentice (information like this had to be presented properly, not just spewed out to the _Daily Prophet_ ). He was also going to move a few things into one of their numerous rooms, so not only would he be taking part of her inheritance, he would be living close by. She couldn't escape Felix outside of Hogwarts, even if she wanted to. Hazel had gotten special permission from Dumbledore to attend and use the Floo Network in his office. She'd invited Veronica to go with her; they planned on ditching out after the announcement, getting drunk and rolling down the hill of Clifford's Tower.

"So what is there to do in York? You know, besides get pissed and rolling down hills." Veronica asked in an attempt to distract her forlorn-looking friend.

At the mention of her hometown, Hazel's features brightened, "Oh, there's lots to do. Have I ever told you about the Undercroft?"

* * *

At around five o'clock the sixth-year Gryffindor girls went upstairs to prepare for the ball. Thanks to Alicia's meticulous nature, she'd drawn up a rotating schedule for each of the girls to shower, apply their makeup, and do their hair before getting dressed. Everything ran smoothly and all of the girls kept gabbing about the night ahead of them.

"Do you really think Dumbledore got the Weird Sisters?" Alicia asked from her vanity, applying a thin layer of lip gloss.

"I hope so. Who else would he have gotten?" Hazel speculated at the mirror next to her, trying to draw a smooth line of eyeliner but failing repeatedly.

"Word is they were in talks with the Ambitious Mastadons, but it fell through when they broke up last month." Veronica supplied, snatching the eyeliner from Hazel's hand and drawing the line for her.

"Thank you." Hazel muttered.

"It was like watching a puppy drown, I had to help." Veronica smirked. Hazel was shite at doing her own makeup because she rarely wore any.

An hour later, she was squeezing into her amazing dress that somehow fit even better than before. Her long curls fell over her shoulders in a glossy honey-colored waterfall. She'd magically lengthened it about four inches so it was what she referred to as "mermaid-length" and used some Sleakeasy's to tame it.

She looked at herself in the mirror and had to admit, she looked _fantastic._ She would definitely be turning some heads that night.

Hopefully she turned the right ones.

* * *

Since they had all agreed to meet in the Entrance Hall, Hazel found herself trying not to trip over her own feet as she dashed along the corridors with Angelina, who looked absolutely adorable in a strapless pink gown, and Veronica, whose dress was a shade so crimson Hazel couldn't help but think of blood. All three of them wore heels but none of them found any trouble in walking (or, in this case, running) because of a handy little charm Hazel had thought up that made any shoe feel like a pillow strapped to one's foot. She'd even managed to make a tidy sum of money by charming a few of the younger girls' shoes.

Despite all of her apprehension over the event, Hazel discovered that she was practically giddy with excitement. She'd planned on making the most of the night; she wanted to dance until she couldn't feel her feet and trudge back up to her room past midnight, still high on the evening.

She also looked forward to spending the evening with George. He was, truly, one of her best friends. She'd recently come upon a strange revelation; even though he was her ex's twin, she didn't get the same fluttery feeling in her stomach she got when she was around Fred. It was quite a relief not to feel that way when gazing at a headful of ginger hair or when his brown eyes met hers.

All of that relief turned to dread when she and her two girlfriends made their grand descent into the Entrance Hall. Hazel caught sight of the twins waiting by the bottom of the stairs and upon catching the eye of the one in the hunter green vest, her date, George Gideon Weasley, her heart leapt into her throat. All the confidence she had when looking at herself in the mirror instantly dissipated and left her with nothing but nervousness. She could feel her hands becoming clammy as each step brought her closer to her dance partner, who was gaping up at her as if she'd poisoned him with a mind-erasing potion.

His eyes were wide and his mouth hung slightly open. Fred could swear his heart skipped a beat in his chest as he watched Hazel descend the stairs. His vision became blurry around the edges until all he could see was Hazel. George elbowed him in the ribs, knocking him momentarily off-kilter and bringing him back to himself.

"Stop gaping, _George_." George said; if their charade was going to work Fred needed to keep his cool, which so far had proven difficult.

"Jealousy doesn't suit you, _Fred_." Fred chided back to his brother as the three angelic girls came to a stop in front of them. They all stood in an awkward circle, no one wanting to make the first move. Other students milled about them, and each teen kept stealing glances at their respective dates. All except Veronica, who was craning her neck over the crowd to look for Robert.

"Well, that's enough gawking at each other. Ladies, you all look absolutely stunning this evening." Fred (or, at least, the one Hazel thought to be Fred) said, breaking the silence.

"You're not so bad yourself, Fred." Angelina said in a flirtatious voice.

"Oi! What about me?" asked George in mock offense.

"You clean up good, Weasley." Veronica said, still searching for Robert.

"Yes, George, you look very handsome." Hazel agreed, barely able to contain her smile.

Veronica spotted her date on the other side of the hall and suggested the group move in that direction to stop blocking the stairs, and they weaved their way through the crowd. They stopped about ten feet away and Veronica grabbed Hazel's hand, pleading with her eyes for Hazel to follow her. Hazel reluctantly agreed because Veronica spoke not a word of French and she found Robert's friends intimidating.

"Bonjour, Robert." Veronica said, tapping her date on the shoulder. The handsome blonde turned and, upon seeing Veronica, his face cracked into a large smile.

"Mon dieu, Veronique. You look incredible." He said, his eyes taking in his lovely date like a parched man in the desert.

"Thank you, Robert. You look wonderful as well." And Hazel had to agree. Robert's short blonde hair was styled just so in order to look as if he'd just stepped out of the shower looking that fabulous, and his dress robes were an inky, silky black. The vest he wore underneath it was crimson to match Veronica's dress.

"And Hazel, I simply have no words." Robert flirted and Hazel brushed him off as Felix appeared over his friend's shoulder and cleared his throat.

"Excusez-moi , Robert , mais je crois avoir égaré mon mouchoir de poche – Oh, Hazel, Veronica, I didn't see you there." He said unconvincingly. His dress robes were a deep red, nearly black, with black piping around the edges. He was devastatingly sexy, with his thick hair slicked back and a black tie gripping his throat.

"Hello Felix." Veronica muttered tersely, but Hazel remained silent, looking anywhere but at him.

"Hello Veronica. Have you met Odette?" he said, introducing the gorgeous, elegant woman next to him. Hazel had seen her from a distance multiple times and thought she was pretty, but up close she was absolutely gorgeous. She looked as if she'd just stepped off the runway in Paris and Hazel hated the fact that she felt a spark of jealousy. She felt a presence at her side and the spark disappeared.

"Hello there Felix. Lovely evening, isn't it?" George asked congenially, slapping the Frenchman on the back a little too roughly. Hazel bit back a smile.

"Yes, it seems that way. Hazel, I look forward to seeing your grandparents over the New Year. Their parties are always superb, will you be attending?" Felix said pointedly.

"Yes, I will be there. And so will Veronica." Her voice was tight and she continued to not look at him.

"Good, I believe Odette will be there as well, won't you darling?" he asked and when the beautiful brunette nodded he continued talking in a haughty tone, "She's even talked of coming to stay over the summer. I told her all about York and she's dying to see the Undercroft." He bragged.

"Good for her. Nice to see you Felix." Hazel said, grabbing George's hand and walking back toward the group.

"What was that all about?" Fred-disguised-as-George asked. Hazel looked at him incredulously.

"As if you don't remember?"

"Erm…no, sorry." Fred apologized.

Hazel scoffed, "You don't remember? You don't remember the life-altering news I shared with you not two weeks ago? Is your memory that short?"

He shrugged, wanting to steer the conversation elsewhere. "Must be. Look, they're opening the doors!"

Her concern for his forgetfulness evaporated as the doors to the Great Hall opened to reveal what she could only describe as a winter wonderland. Everything looked as if it was covered in frost from the walls to the sconces to the tables, and the floor looked like ice. The enchanted ceiling was letting down a light snow and the light from a thousand floating candles made the entire room glow. She was at a loss for words as she filed in with her friends. They found a table big enough for all of them plus Robert and Alicia's Durmstrang date whose name Hazel kept forgetting. Lee came over and pulled out a chair for Katie Bell, his date.

"Making your way through the team, eh mate?" Fred joked, one arm slung protectively around Angelina's shoulders.

"Yeah, you're next Weasley. Watch out!" Lee snarked back, sitting in his seat next to Katie and the Durmstrang boy. The table laughed and ordered their food, the conversation turning to polite chatter between mouthfuls of delicious food.

"Hazel, you ordered the lamb?" Robert asked excitedly.

"Yeah, I've never had it before. Why?"

"The lamb is normally served in France for Christmas dinner while you English prefer your beef."

"That's good to know. It seems like more and more French food is appearing on the tables these days." She commented aloud.

"Oui, probably because of us. It helps the Beauxbatons students feel more at home."

"Have you been homesick?" Hazel asked conversationally. She was starting to tire of the conversation, since small talk made her want to bang her head against the table.

"A little in the beginning. But it is difficult to be lonely when I've got such a beautiful distraction." He said, placing his hand over one of Veronica's. Hazel chuckled as she watched her friend turn the color of her gown. They were sickeningly adorable.

Dinner ended and Dumbledore politely requested that everyone stand. They did and, with a wave of his wand, all the tables and chairs flew to the sides of the room to make way for the dance floor. Where the head table usually sat, the Hogwarts student orchestra filed in and took their seats. Professor Flitwick stood on a stool and directed them as they started a slow waltzy sounding tune.

The four champions and their dates were first on the floor; Cedric was gloriously handsome as he gracefully led Cho around, Fleur having to practically drag Roger Davies across the floor because he was so besotted, Harry awkwardly trying to remember the steps with Parvati Patil, and was that Hermione Granger with Viktor Krum? Soon enough, Dumbledore escorted Madame Maxime. The staff slowly trickled onto the dance floor before being followed by the students.

"Well, Hazel?" George said, gesturing toward the crowd of dancing bodies.

"Are you sure you'll be able to keep up?" she asked in mock condescension.

He smirked, "I think I'll manage." He offered her his hand and she took it, following him. He put one hand on her waist and outstretched his other one. She could see him counting the steps in his head, but he was still almost half a beat behind. He was moving a lot more smoothly than he had been in a while and the suspicion she'd felt earlier crept back into her mind.

"George?" she asked as he lifted her off the ground briefly.

"Mmm?" he responded, trying to keep time in his head.

"You do remember why things are awkward between Felix and I, right?"

"Yeah. It was…because of that thing that happened, yeah?" he said noncommittally.

"And do you remember what that thing was?"

"I feel like you're trying to make me admit something. I must say, it's very disconcerting." He smirked at her again and she felt her heart flutter.

"Don't change the subject!"

"What was the subject again?"

"You rat!" she said, playfully hitting his chest. The song ended and the crowd clapped politely as the orchestra disbanded and made their way off the stage.

"Ladies and gentlemen," said Professor Flitwick who had used a sonorous charm to make his squeaky voice loud enough to fill the room, "The Weird Sisters!"

The crowd erupted with wild cheers and deafening applause as the eight-man band took the stage. Hazel screamed along with the girls in the crowd as their lead singer, Myron Wagtail, took the stage. Even though he was much older than most of the girls in the audience, he was undeniably sexy. Like Mick Jagger or Jim Morrison, he had a rock star boldness that was hard to ignore.

Hazel turned to George and grabbed his arm, jumping up and down with excitement. He laughed, and tried to keep clapping as Myron Wagtail stepped up to the magically-enhanced horn that Hazel figured was a wizard version of a microphone.

"Hogwarts can you hear me?" his voice filled the hall as the drummer pounded out the first few beats of their song "Rainbow Potions" as the crowd went wild. "Here we go!"

The dancing became much less elegant, but way more fun in Hazel's opinion. It reminded her of the Willow, with everyone flocking to the music and bouncing about, drunk on the sheer energy of the room. She danced with George, who had shed his heavy dress robe and was now in just his button-down shirt and vest with his sleeves rolled up to the elbows. He seemed, at least to Hazel, to be enjoying himself. He would occasionally pull her close, holding onto her hands respectfully rather than letting them roam her body as Alicia's date was doing.

They finally got a break during a slow song, and she tiredly rested her head on his chest as they swayed in time. His once crisp green shirt was wrinkled and smelled vaguely of a scent she could only describe as 'Fred' that made her heart race.

She pulled away so suddenly that she crashed the crown of her head into George's chin, making them both cry out in pain. They separated, each holding a hand to their injuries as they regarded each other.

Their eyes met and, instead of shouting at one another they both began to laugh uncontrollably at their stupidity. He held his free hand out to her and she took it, following him off the dance floor.

"Do you want to go out to the garden? Clear our heads a bit?" he suggested once they were far enough away from the music to hear one another.

"Yeah, sure." She agreed, nodding her head slightly but immediately regretting the decision. He pulled her toward the table that ran along the edge of the hall where multiple large punch fountains had been set up under the watchful eye of Professor Moody.

The fountain nearest them was full of a thin-looking pink punch that smelled of strawberries. Hazel took a cup while George undid his cravat and stole some ice from the base of the font, fastening it into a makeshift ice pack and holding it to Hazel's head gingerly.

"Thanks." She said, wincing a bit. She could already feel the lump forming just behind her hairline.

"Anytime, Missy Hazel." He said quietly, a look in his eyes that she recognized almost instantly.

"Weasley! Herrod! What're you doing over there?" Moody shouted, metal leg thudding against the stone floor as he hobbled over to them.

"Just getting some ice, Professor. Hazel here got a little too exuberant on the dance floor."

"Should go to Madame Pomfrey, get that looked at Herrod."

"I'm fine Professor. I've got ice and we're just about to go out to the garden for some fresh air."

The professor harrumphed, "Probably for the best. Pomfrey looks to be enjoying herself a bit too much over there." He nodded his head in the direction of the dance floor, where the school matron was swaying dreamily to the song, a goblet of something Hazel assumed wasn't pumpkin juice in her hand.

"I'll keep an eye on her, Sir." George assured. Moody harrumphed again before hobbling away from them quickly.

"Don't think I didn't see that, O'Toole! Five points from Hufflepuff!" he shouted. Hazel and George chuckled as they made their way outside.

The air around them was enchanted to ward off the winter chill, which made the garden that much more magical. It was set up in the entrance courtyard, but Hazel couldn't tell from the look of it. Softly-glowing fairy lights danced through the air and the paths were winding in an almost inviting way. George grabbed her hand and they strolled leisurely down a path until they came to a secluded bench. Despite the charm on her shoes, her feet were getting tired.

She sat down while Fred-disguised-as-George remained standing for a second. It was now or never, he thought as he sat next to her, watching her take off her shoes. Fred momentarily thanked Merlin that he wasn't a girl; those shoes looked like torture devices. He took a deep breath and broke the comfortable silence that had settled between them.

"Hazel?"

"Do you want a drink?" she asked suddenly, remembering the flask in her purse.

"Erm…yeah, why not?" he accepted confusedly as she reached into her small purse and extracted the flask that he knew had once been her mother's.

"How'd you manage to get that past Moody?" he asked as she took a nip and passed it to him.

"Undetectable Extension Charm." She said, patting the purse that lay between them. It was a small midnight-blue thing to match her dress with a simple clasp at the top.

"Wow, this is incredible. Nithercott's?" he asked, holding the flask aloft. She grabbed it back and took another pull.

"That is Hazel seventeen-year special reserve. My granddad gave it to me for my birthday before he…you know." She became visibly uncomfortable and Fred had no idea what she was talking about. He had to change the subject again before he revealed himself prematurely. Her purse still lay on the stone bench between them.

He snatched it and opened it before she could do anything to stop him, "What else do you have in here?" he wondered as he dug into it up to his forearm.

"Come on, give it back!" she said, halfheartedly leaning against him in order to further her reach.

"Oh? What's this?" he asked, his hand closing around what felt like the spine of a book. What kind of woman brought a book to a party? Hazel Herrod, that's who, he thought to himself as he extracted the book. He read the title and his mouth instantly dried out, his brain going blank.

 _The Princess Bride._

He cracked the front cover and, sure enough, the small white daisy grew up out of the pages. The passage he had underlined was on page twenty-seven. He couldn't hear her attempts at explanation; the only thought in his brain was NOW NOW TELL HER NOW.

"Hazel?" he interrupted her rambling.

"Yes?"

"You know how I've been sort of…not myself all night?"

"Wha - what do you mean?" she asked nervously. She desperately prayed for him to believe her; she hadn't meant to bring the book, she just hadn't taken it out of her purse since the last time she'd used it the previous summer (a half-truth, she had forgotten it was in there but had discovered it while getting ready and hadn't removed it), she was having a wonderful time with him and wasn't still hung up on Fred (another half-truth).

"I mean I am making very obvious moves toward you and seem to have no recollection of this horrible thing your grandfather and the frenchie did to you."

"Yeah?"

"It's because I'm not myself." He said simply, pulling his wand out from his sock where he'd stashed it.

She giggled nervously, "What? Of course you are, who else could you…be?" she asked timidly, her suspicions peaked. She gave him a look that was a cocktail of fear and confusion. Fred waved his wand in front of his face and the small glamor disappeared. He had always known she used that damn pockmark to identify him.

"I'm Fred, not George," he said. She opened her mouth to retort but he held up a hand to silence her, "Before you shout at me and call me awful things let me explain! We didn't set out to do this; it just sort of worked out that way."

"Worked out what way?" she felt lightheaded as she spotted the telltale pock on the bridge of his nose.

"George told me how he felt about Angelina and he knew how I felt about you, so we agreed to switch places on one condition."

"What condition?" She could feel her face drain of color as the pieces clicked into place. That's why he didn't remember that Felix now owned half of her family's business. That's why she couldn't tell them apart (he must've transfigured himself to look more like George). That's why her heart was thudding against her ribcage when she met his eyes. She wasn't falling for George as she had feared, which was a relief, but who the hell were they to manipulate her (and Angelina) like this?

"We each had to tell our respective dates how we felt about her." He grew sheepish and looked down at his feet, flicking his eyes up to hers for a moment to gauge exactly how angry she was. Her face was oddly calm, if a bit pale and dazed-looking.

"And…" she swallowed, "How do you feel about me?"

"First of all, I'm sorry for everything. I should've trusted you, shouldn't have said what I said…I was just too stubborn and blind to admit the truth." Fred murmured as he tapped the cover of the book before setting it on the bench and turning his whole body toward her.

"The truth?" She could feel her heart pound in her chest; her vision started getting fuzzy and she was regretting the few sips of alcohol she'd had.

"I have not known a moment in years when the sight of you did not send my heart careening against my rib cage. I have not known a night when your visage did not accompany me to sleep. There has not been a morning when you did not flutter behind my waking eyelids….Is any of this getting through to you, Missy Hazel, or do you want me to go on for a while?"

She grasped for words but none were within her reach. He'd memorized the passage he'd underlined in her book all those months ago. He was still her Man in Black, mischievous and dangerous and hers. All that came out of her mouth was, "Wh…what?"

"I love you. Okay? Want it louder? I love you! Spell it out, should I? I ell-oh-vee-ee why-oh-you." He continued, smiling at the dopey expression on her face. She clearly had no idea how to respond, and even if she slapped him and walked away at least he'd told her. Now all he could do was wait.

He didn't have to wait long.

She leapt to her feet and swayed a bit, looking from him to the ground in front of her. Her breathing was labored and she was unnaturally pale, but there was a fire in her eyes that told Fred he had stepped dangerously out of line.

"How…How dare you!?" She shouted, "How DARE you!"

She couldn't think of anything to say past that, so she turned on her heel and stomped back toward the path. Suddenly, the words came to her and she stomped back.

"I am so bloody sick of the men in my life trying to manipulate me! If it's not my grandfather trying to force Felix and me together, it's you and your bloody brother trying to make me fall back into your arms! You hurt me, Fred. You basically called me a whore and you flat out told me that you didn't trust me. And I am having a damn hard time trying to trust you again. In case you were wondering, _this_ is why!" She ranted at him, pointing between the two of them, "You are so wrapped up in your pranks and your trickery that it's like you can't express anything real! Nothing is genuine to you, it all slides off your back and you move on to your next trick."

"The fuck do you mean? This is real, Hazel, how I feel about you and how you feel about me, _that's_ what's real!" He stood, shouting back at her. He glanced up the path and took small solace in the fact that it was empty. He didn't need anyone walking in on this.

"No! It's not! The fact that you and George had to switch places with each other to get the dates you really wanted indicates that you were too chicken to admit your feelings to yourself, let alone to me!"

"Well maybe I was, but I'm not anymore!" He reached for her arm but she stepped back out of his grasp.

"Yes you are! You've had months to apologize; yet you said nothing. Instead you pursued one of my best friends right under my nose. You mishandled this whole thing, and…you blew it. I'm out. I can't keep doing this dance anymore, Fred. We both have some big decisions coming up in the next few years…we've got to focus on our futures…I'm sorry."

The words stung her probably as much as they stung him, and she could feel tears prickling behind her eyes. The goose egg on her forehead was throbbing which was giving her a headache. Not wanting him to see her cry, she gathered her things from the bench and paused to take off her shoes. The charm must've worn off, but she didn't care; the heels would be a hindrance to her rushing off.

Fred reached out again, this time his fingers finding purchase on the soft skin of her forearm. He felt her tense up under his touch, and she stopped mid-move, not looking at him. Music streamed out of the open doors, and he could hear a group of students laughing their way down another path in the garden.

"Hazel, you are my future. I love you. I always will." He said softly, genuinely.

She didn't respond, finishing her move to put the book in her purse and storm off, heels in hand. She walked through the grass, but broke into a run once her feet met the stone sidewalk.

Fred watched her go, his heart crumbling in his chest. Deep down he knew she was right; he had bungled the whole thing. He should've confronted her the minute he'd figured out that he was in love with her and declared it for all to hear.

He felt weak, dizzy, like he'd just taken a bludger to the head and gut at the same time, so he moved back to the bench and sat down. A flash of light on something metallic caught his eye and he looked to his left.

Hazel's flask. He picked it up and shook it, hopeful to find it still full. His hope was rewarded when he heard liquid sloshing around inside it. Opening it, he took a long pull, coughing as it burned his esophagus.

If only it could burn away the memory of the last twenty minutes, he wished bitterly as he lay back on the bench, staring upward toward the stars.

"Me and my big fucking mouth." He muttered as he lifted the flask to his lips once more.

* * *

 **I know what you're thinking and I AM THE WORST. However, it was pointed out to me by a Guest reviewer that Hazel needs to focus on something other than boys, and that neither Fred nor Hazel seem to be ready or mature enough for a real relationship at this point. Needless to say, I agree.** **Originally, there was a happy reunion between Fred and Hazel, but I changed it to give Hazel some more time to figure out what exactly it is she wants out of life. To be an independent woman, to become a fully realized witch as it were.**

 **I am planning on wrapping this up soon, and then starting on a sequel that will cover most if not all of the rest of the series. So never fear! There is still PLENTY of time for them to figure their shit out.**

 **I adore all of you for the support and the love!**

 **Reviews please!**


	29. For Auld Lang Syne

Hazel ran up the path and through the entrance hall, reaching the stairs before she heard someone calling her name. Since it was a female voice, she paused.

"Hazel, wait up!" Veronica shouted at her, rushing over with Robert in tow. They were obviously about to head out to the garden. Veronica reached her and put a hand on her shoulder, seeing Hazel's blotchy face and running makeup.

"Haze, what's wrong? What happened?" Hazel saw her friend's eyes flick up to the lump on her forehead and groaned inwardly.

"Just…dancing a bit too rough, I guess. You two go on, I'm going up to bed." She tried to appear breezy, but the tremble in her voice refused to cooperate.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Veronica asked, rubbing her shoulder a bit. Not wanting to intrude on what could still be a magical night for her friend, Hazel shook her head.

"I'm fine, Veronica, really. You two carry on with your night. I'm just not feeling too well." She turned and bolted up the staircase before Veronica could protest. Luckily, when she returned to the common room it was empty. Not wanting to chance being seen by another one of her friends, she proceeded directly up to the showers in the dorms, stripping off her dress and turning the water to scalding hot. She wanted to be wash away the horrible feeling in her gut, but knew in her heart that it was the right decision.

She had a lot of big things happening in the upcoming year; N.E.W.T.s, job training, her father's wedding, the possibility of a new sibling, and what to do about her stake in Nithercott's.

As she stepped out of the shower, she decided that enough was enough for one night and, after putting on her coziest pajamas, she crawled into bed.

She couldn't fall asleep, so instead she cracked open the copy of _Leaves of Grass_ that her father had sent her for Christmas, along with a letter detailing his and Julia's latest wedding plans.

They'd settled on a venue: Merchant Adventurer's Hall. Their small ceremony would be outside, and then they would move inside for the reception. Julia hadn't settled on a dress, but had found some bridesmaid dresses she liked. Hazel hoped they weren't too horrible, remembering that she'd agreed to be in the bridal party.

Hazel closed her eyes and tried to imagine how the wedding would look; Julia in a radiant white gown, her father looking dashing in a tuxedo under an archway of foliage…

Those thoughts were oddly calming, and accompanied her into a peaceful, dream-filled sleep.

* * *

A few days later Hazel found herself back in her navy blue dress, stumbling out the fireplace at Nithercott Manor. The party was already in full swing, four hours to go until the New Year and half an hour before Angus and Renatta's big announcement; that they had found a new, more deserving grandchild, Hazel thought bitterly as she helped Veronica to her feet.

"Hazel darling! There you are, we were beginning to think you weren't coming!" her grandmother gushed on her way over, pretending as if everything was okay between them when, at least to Hazel, it most certainly was not.

"Hello Gran. This is my friend Veronica, Veronica this is my grandmother Renatta Nithercott." She introduced her wide-eyed best friend. The two women shook hands and Renatta commented on how pretty both girls looked before being summoned by someone on the far end of the room.

"You girls have fun now!" she exclaimed as she made her graceful exit. Hazel glanced about the room and, seeing no one of consequence, ushered Veronica over to the bar.

"Two six years please, Uncle Leonard." She asked of her uncle, who was stuck with the only job his father trusted him to do; pour drinks.

"My my, Hazel. You get prettier every time I see you."

"Thanks." She said tersely, not paying attention to her aging uncle. Her eyes were seeking out a familiar crop of chocolate brown hair as she sipped her firewhiskey.

"Given any thought to what you want to do once you leave school?" Leonard asked, trying to catch his niece's attention.

Obviously he was not in the loop. "No, not yet. Veronica here wants to write for the Prophet though. Got her life all planned out, she does."

Leonard's eyes widened slightly, "Really? Well you know that's Barnabus Cuffe, the editor right over there?" he motioned to a white-haired wizard standing morosely by the wall adjacent to them and Veronica's eyes brightened.

"Oh Hazel, would you mind terribly?"

"No, go and say hello. Make connections." She dismissed her friend, grateful for the chance to be alone so she could keep scoping out the room. Hazel leaned against the bar, letting her thoughts wander as she regarded the room from above the brim of her glass.

"Right nasty thing my father did." Her uncle commented and Hazel turned back to face him.

"What was?"

"What he did to you. Giving half of our family's business to the foreign stranger." He was cleaning a glass with a cloth before flinging it back over his shoulder like the barmen of old. His brown hair was thinning a bit at the top, and he shared the hazel eyes Hazel had seen in pictures of her mother. Other than that, he looked like a much younger copy of her grandfather. Long, thin nose and a long face with kind of droopy eyes. He looked like Humphrey Bogart, or a basset hound.

"Yes, well, what can we do?" she leaned her elbows against the bar and looked up at him.

Leonard sighed, "Unfortunately, nothing. I only have five percent shares in the company, and now you'll only get forty-seven and a half percent when me dad kicks. The rest belong to that frog over there." He motioned with his forehead in the direction he was looking and Hazel watched as Felix strode in, looking stunning in a navy blue tuxedo. He had Odette on his arm, her short black hair luminous and in perfect contrast with her emerald green dress. They were a beautiful couple.

She glared at them from across the room, wishing that she could set them on fire with her gaze. Slamming the rest of her drink, she slid the glass back to her uncle. Without her having to ask, he refilled it, and once more when she drained it again, still glaring at Felix and Odette.

Leonard chuckled to himself and Hazel took notice, "What's so funny?"

"The way you're glaring at those two…it's just how your mother looked when she found out about her match with Ogden."

"Perhaps it's genetic." She said through gritted teeth, "This feeling like your life is being decided for you behind your back."

Leonard chuckled again, "This family has always had high hopes for its women."

Hazel paused and looked down at her hands, reminding herself that her uncle, a fully-blooded Nithercott, would never be a significant part of his namesake. If anyone's birthright was being usurped here, it was his.

"I'm sorry, Uncle. I know I shouldn't be complaining-"

"Never you mind that. My father's never had any confidence in me. Once they found out I was a Squib, that was it. Went to Muggle schools, even graduated from a Muggle University, but it wasn't magic…Laurie was always the Great White Hope of the Nithercott clan," he smiled to himself, remembering his little sister, "but that all went to hell too."

"Why are you telling me this?" Hazel asked, never having realized her uncle had gone to University, or how much he apparently missed her mother.

"My father was sick of having his progeny disappoint him, so he found someone new to pin his hopes on. I assure you, Hazel, it's nothing personal. It's just the real family business." Leonard shrugged, having come to this realization a long time ago, but to Hazel it was a near-crushing blow.

Didn't loving your child mean believing in them? Supporting them? Being proud of them? That's how her father had always treated her, with love and support and near-constant reminders of how proud of her he was. Hazel couldn't imagine growing up in a house like the one her uncle and mother obviously had.

Her uncle slid her another glass of six year old firewhiskey, nodding in the direction of the grand fireplace where her grandparents were conversing with Felix. Hazel looked over and her grandmother waved her hand, beckoning her to the makeshift staging area.

With a quick roll of her eyes she snatched the glass of firewhiskey and headed toward the announcement that would cement Felix's place in her life for good.

* * *

Hazel and Veronica sat on the crest of the hill of Clifford's Tower, passing a bottle of champagne between the two of them and staring out over the soft glow of the city below them.

They'd been silent ever since leaving Nithercott Manor, Hazel absorbed in her thoughts and Veronica understanding exactly why. In true English aristocratic tradition, her grandparents had passive-aggressively pummeled her in their announcement, while at the same time lauding dear Felix as a hero.

The iciness of the Nithercott clan almost made Veronica's home life seem tropical. However, she couldn't get the latest news from home out of her mind. She'd only gotten the letter that morning, and thought about staying behind at school instead of joining Hazel. But she didn't, and the party had taken her mind off of her troubles for a little bit at least. Meeting Barnabus Cuffe had certainly helped.

"Hazel?" Veronica asked in a quiet voice, breaking the silence between them.

"Yes?" Hazel replied, eyes still scanning the lights of her city.

"My parents are getting a divorce." She admitted, thinking it best to just come out with it. Hazel tore her eyes away from the gorgeous sight of the Minster all lit up and looked at her friend. Her brunette updo was coming loose, her face looked tired, and her dress was rumpled. They'd cast warming charms on themselves, so they weren't wearing coats to ward off the chill.

"Oh Merlin, Veronica, that's…" Hazel couldn't think of anything to say. She was no good at comforting people even in the best of circumstances, much less in her current state of mind. "That's awful. How are you handling it?"

Veronica sighed, "I guess I'm not really…I just got the letter from Mum this morning. My dad's moved to our cabin in the Highlands and Mum's keeping the house…I've no idea if Brian's heard or if he even cares."

"It takes a long time to get messages to China. I'm sure he'll be upset by the news." Hazel offered practically, "Do you want to talk about it or do you want to change the subject?"

"Let's change the subject."

"Alright…I've got nothing. I'm…still reeling. Guess I'm not the best person to talk to at the moment."

"Is this about the Fred situation?"

"Yeah." Hazel uncrossed her legs and stretched them out in front of her, wishing she'd brought a pair of jeans with her. She was sick of this dress and all it represented. It didn't help that George had gotten the opposite reaction from his date and now he and Angelina were a sickeningly adorable couple. Fred had tried to make peace with Hazel a few times, cracking an inside joke or two when the opportunity presented itself, but Hazel didn't reciprocate. She didn't want to let him believe that everything was okay between them when it wasn't.

Veronica took a swig from the bottle, "For what it's worth, you made the right call."

"What makes you say that?" Deep down, Hazel had hoped Veronica would tell her she was wrong and she should go fling herself into Fred's arms because perhaps that would make the icky feeling in her torso go away.

"Well, you were right. If he had just told you about his feelings instead of playing with your emotions by going after Ang, things might have turned out in his favor. I don't think he was necessarily trying to manipulate you so much as trick you into seeing his truth."

"Um, hello?! Isn't that the definition of manipulation?" Hazel snatched the bottle and took a quick sip of champagne, the bubbles tickling her nose and making her scrunch up her face.

"Yeah, but...I don't think Fred sees it that way. He and George are the prank kings of Hogwarts, masters of manipulations and maneuverings; it's just their nature. They don't see it as a bad thing and, I think, if all this shit with your grandparents hadn't happened you would be more willing to see his side."

Hazel looked down at her hands, which were still clasped around the champagne bottle, "I don't think that's true, but it'd be nice if it were."

Veronica nudged her friend in the shoulder, "Oh come now. I'm the one with the real reason to be depressed!" she joked, "You know, parents getting divorced, Robert leaving eventually, all that sob story."

"How are you two?"

"Good. Still good. It's funny, but he's kind of a constant in my life now…I'm not sure if that's good or not."

"Well I think it's smashing. You deserve a good guy like Robbie, and he's obviously mad about you." Hazel nudged her friend's shoulder in return and passed her to bottle; only a few sips were left and Hazel could feel the hill start to spin beneath them.

"Hazel, can I say something that might upset you?" Veronica's voice took on a darker tone and Hazel got a bit nervous.

"Sure."

"You didn't deserve that tonight. That was…not on."

"I know. Thanks, Veronica." Hazel swung an arm around Veronica's shoulders and Veronica returned the favor.

"Anytime, Hazel," The two girls sat staring into space for a bit before Veronica continued with, "So…you wanna roll down this thing or not?"

They shared a devilish smirk between the two of them and pulled apart, leaving the mostly-empty champagne bottle behind them.

* * *

 **So my life got crazy for a bit there...I was working for a local Community Theater along with my day job and my husband went out of town so I had to keep up with my horde of animals all by myself...oy vey.**

 **But you guys don't care about my crazy life. You care that I supply you with chapter after thrilling chapter of Hazel's adventures with Fred. Well, here is my latest addition to her story. I think the next few chapters will be pretty light on the Weasley shenanigans, and a bit more introspective on Hazel's part.**

 **If you love me, leave me a review!**


	30. Helter Skelter

Hazel awoke the next morning with very little memory of what happened after she and Veronica rolled down the hill. Judging by the red curtains around her bed, she was back in her bed at Hogwarts. She groaned loudly, her brain pulsing in her skull. Her mouth was dry and tasted as if a doxie had died in there during the night.

Hazel sat up and ran a hand through her hair, her fingers getting caught in the intricate braid from the previous night and making her head hurt worse. A look downward and saw a man's sleep shirt where her dress used to be.

"Wonder where I got this…" she muttered aloud, picking at one of the buttons.

"Same place I did, love." A familiar voice said and her head shot up, taking in a familiar lanky red-haired young man wearing the bottoms that matched the top she was wearing. "My trunk."

"Where the hell am I? What the fuck happened last night?" she demanded frantically, gathering the duvet over her body. She knew it was George who stood before her, but she couldn't help the panic that rose in the back of her throat.

"I honestly have no idea what happened. I was up late working on some stuff for the shop and you just sauntered in, grabbed my shirt, and plopped down next to me. You muttered something about that damn Frenchie and fell fast asleep."

Hazel looked down at her body and found that she had mis-buttoned the shirt directly over her party dress, which was now rumpled and looking a bit worse for wear. Try as she might, she really couldn't remember anything after rolling down the hill of Clifford's Tower with Veronica.

"I tried to wake you up, but you bit me." George explained with a smirk.

"I did not!" Hazel insisted. George presented her with his left forearm, which bore an ugly bruise in the shape of an awkward oval. His evidence was sound. "Oh…sorry about that. I get a little homicidal when I'm sleepy I guess." She joked as her friend walked back over and sat next to her on his bed.

They sat in silence for a bit, and Hazel took the chance to glance about the room. It was empty, but from how much sun was streaming in through the windows it was nearing midday. It smelled of starter cologne and dirty socks with just a hint of whatever cleaner the house elves used. The beds were all made and the room was tidy, which made Hazel wonder what George was still doing in his pajamas. She expressed this concern to her fiery-haired friend and he just laughed.

"I told you, I was up late. And then this bird just invites herself into my bed and falls asleep. What's a bloke to do?"

"I'm really sorry about that. I was apparently drunk beyond belief. Must've taken a wrong turn somewhere, thought your bed was mine…I guess I'll be going." She rose to her feet and unbuttoned the sleep shirt.

"Wait a tick, Hazel. I wanted to talk to you about something."

Hazel paused and looked up at him, raising one eyebrow, "Some _thing_ or some _one_?" she asked pointedly, tossing a glance over at Fred's bed.

George sighed, "Someone. I know what we did was a rotten trick, but…can't you see it from our side? We didn't set out to hurt you, or manipulate you, or anything else. We both just needed to get our feelings out there. We had to make sure that you and Angelina knew how each of us felt about you. There was no malicious or insidious intent. He didn't mean to hurt you."

"He didn't hurt me, George. And I know you two wanted to make things right with Ang and me, but…considering everything else going on in my life now is not the right time to add something else. If he had just come to me and talked about it…" she trailed off, unsure of how to end that sentence. If he had come to her and talked things through, would they be together now? Her stomach churned uncomfortably, making her nausea worse.

"I know, trust me, I do. But…could ya just talk to him? Let him know that you don't hate him and that you want to be friends. For real this time?" George gave her a slight nudge on her upper arm. It was the right thing to do; and she did want him in her life, just not in the same capacity that he wanted. At least, not yet.

"I'll think about it."

George nodded, "Good. That's all I ask. Now get out of my room before the blokes get back from breakfast."

Hazel stood and nodded, "Right. Don't want to try and explain this to whomever should walk in."

She bid George goodbye and snuck back to her own dormitory as quickly and quietly as she could. The dorm was empty except for Veronica, who was still snoring behind her bed curtains. Hazel grabbed her shower things and went into the bathroom, hoping the scalding spray would ease her headache.

* * *

The day before term was to start, Hazel bundled up and sought out a familiar beech tree down by the lake. She'd been feeling especially rotten over the last few days; her grandparent's words from New Year's Eve kept reverberating in her brain. On top of that, she'd sent in her application to Gringott's for their summer Curse Breaker training session and she was sure her essay hadn't been the best she could've written. It awakened in her all of the doubts she'd been having since her grandfather announced he'd be taking Felix as an apprentice.

She wasn't good enough.

She was worthless.

Her attempts at anything were for naught.

Overcome with depression, she'd been avoiding her friends either by remaining in her dorm and reading all day, or taking long, solitary walks down to the lake. Hazel didn't want them to see her like she was; she didn't want them to worry about her when they each had their own problems.

She reached the beech tree and curled up in her usual spot. The snow soaked her jeans and her legs started going numb as she stared across the Black Lake, lost in thought and self-pity.

She hated feeling helpless, but she couldn't see a way out of her current predicament.

 _Oh well,_ she thought, _I guess I'll just work at dad's shop for the rest of my life._

"Could be worse," she said aloud. "I could have dragon pox or syphilitic insanity."

"Worse than what?" a familiar voice said out of nowhere. She leapt to her feet, her frozen limbs protesting the sudden movement and she faltered, pressing her hand against the tree trunk for stability. A familiar ginger emerged through the trees, holding his hands up in surrender.

"I didn't mean to frighten you." Fred apologized, approaching her.

"I know. But you did. Just now." She explained awkwardly, righting herself in the fresh, fluffy snow. "Why are you here?"

"I noticed you've been pretty absent recently. Just wanted to break the ice and come see if you're okay." He shoved his hands in his coat pockets, his maple eyes scanning her before quickly flicking away.

"Yeah, I'm okay."

He scoffed and shuffled his feet in the snow, muttering something under his breath.

"What was that?" she asked for clarification.

He raised his head, his eyes meeting hers, "I said yeah bloody right you're okay. You're barely showing up at meals, spending all your time in your room, not talking to anyone…you're not alright Hazel. Something's up and I am- we're all worried about you."

Hazel felt her defenses go up; who were they to decide if she was okay or not? She hadn't asked for nor did she want their help. A small voice within her told her that she needed it. She wanted their help.

"Why?" she asked quietly, looking down at her gloves.

Fred approached her slowly, placing tentative hands on her upper arms. "Because we care about you, and we like you. Now what's going on? You mentioned at the ball that something happened with your granddad and Frenchy McDickhead?"

Hazel couldn't help but smile at Felix's impromptu nickname and she raised her gaze to meet Fred's once more. George's words from a few days prior echoed in her head and she decided she finally needed to clue him in.

"It's a long story. Take a walk with me?" she tossed her head in the direction of the trail that led through the woods back to the castle.

"Sure."

So they walked and Hazel told him what had transpired after the first task, and at Hogsmeade, and the New Year's party. She told him about how she'd felt hopeless and helpless over the last few days. In essence, she told him everything. He balked and exclaimed profanity where appropriate, and as they approached the castle she grabbed his arm to stop him.

"Do you understand now? About why I reacted the way I did at the ball?" He nodded, but remained silent. It probably wasn't wise to bring up such a tender topic, but she needed to say something. "It was shit timing. Still is. Will be for a while. But I'm not angry with you. I most certainly don't hate you, especially since you've just let me dump out all my problems on you over the last what, hour?"

"You can always talk to me Hazel. About anything, you know that right?"

"Yeah, I do. I just hate that everything got all mucked up. I couldn't talk to you because it was weird between us, and then…everything else happened…"

"I'm here now. Don't ever hold anything back from me again. I want to hear about everything! What did you eat for lunch? What did you dream about last night? When was your last bowel movement, because George and I are working on this product that'll-!" He theatrically wrapped an arm around her shoulder and ushered her back up the path.

"I think I get the picture." She interrupted him, poking him in the ribs. "I haven't eaten since dinner last night. Want to grab some lunch?"

As if on cue, Fred's stomach growled. "Apparently yes!"

Hazel's heart felt lighter as Fred directed her toward the Great Hall. She didn't know for sure, because her recent anxieties didn't really let her believe anything anymore, but she felt like things were looking up for her now that she had Fred back in her life.

* * *

It was the end of February. She'd just watched the Second Task of the Triwizard Tournament and now awaited her grandfather at the Three Broomsticks. She faced the door, her foot bouncing and her eyes darting around the room.

In the last few months, her depression subsided. Fred and George and Veronica had helped her with a plan to get her grandfather off her back. Hopefully, for good. She still had a few weeks until she heard back about the Gringotts' summer training course, and she had asked Bill to check on her application. He'd written back and said it was in the 'Accepted' pile. Her father's bookshop expansion was nearly complete, and he and Julia were putting the final touches on their wedding plans.

Her future was all but set, but she now felt confident that she wouldn't need her grandparents' money or power. All she had to do was tell him of her intentions.

Easier said than done, she thought as her grandfather entered the pub.

"Hazel, my darling girl! How've you been?" he asked as she stood to hug him briefly.

"Oh, I'm alright. How's gran?" she asked politely, listening quietly as he told her about Renatta's latest charity cause.

"So…why did you want to meet today?" he asked, leaning forward excitedly. Hazel knew he was probably expecting her to agree to the match with Felix, but she knew otherwise.

"Well, Gramp, I was thinking over our current situation. With the business and all, you know." She folded her hands in front of her to hide the slight tremble. She was nervous.

"And?" He leaned a bit more forward, apparently eager to hear what she had to say.

"And, when it comes time for you to retire and I get my share in Nithercott's, I will be gifting my shares to Uncle Leonard." She explained slowly, making sure he heard every syllable.

The idea of selling her shares had been Veronica's, but some digging into wizarding inheritance law revealed an even easier path. Selling the shares involved hiring a goblin broker, then having him find a buyer, and then paying the broker a hefty percentage of the sale. However, if she gifted her shares she could avoid all of that. All she had to do was sign a document in front of a Ministry of Magic notary, which she was planning on doing as soon as the shares were legally hers.

Her grandfather's hopeful expression fell into a scowl, "What? Leonard? You're not serious!"

"I am. Gramp, he graduated at the top of his class in business!"

"From a _Muggle_ university!" Angus snarled in a half-whisper, not wanting the people around him to hear such a shameful fact about his son.

"And you've ignored that potential for twenty years! You have an asset right in front of you and you've ignored him because he happened to be a squib!" she accused.

Angus's face turned bright red, "You have no idea what you're talking about, Hazel. He is not right to run my business, my father's business-"

"And I am?"

"Yes!"

"If you really believed that, you wouldn't have given half my shares to a stranger instead of your own son!"

"I will change my will. I'll write you out completely! You'll be left without a knut to your name!" He threatened, but Hazel remained resolute.

"I've got mum's inheritance already, and I have plenty of career options."

Angus scoffed, "You mean Curse Breaking?"

"Yes."

"Well then your hope there is gone, my girl." He leaned back in his chair and beckoned Madame Rosmerta over.

"Why?"

"Because I wrote to the goblins of Gringotts' and bribed them to reject your application."

Hazel's blood ran cold. If looks could kill, she was sure her grandfather would've fallen dead where he sat. She briefly wished it, trying to come up with something to say.

Flames made of pure rage spread from her stomach, up her chest and into her limbs. She wanted to scream, she felt the sound grow in her throat but she swallowed it. That's what he wanted; for her to make a scene. He wanted to point out how instable she was and negate her desire to abdicate her throne as the Nithercott heiress. He was trying to trap her, he always had been. He should've learned from his inability to control his daughter, but apparently he hadn't.

So, slowly and as calmly as possible, Hazel rose to her feet. "I am done, Gramp. Done playing your power games, trying to get you to see things from my view. If you would like to remain a part of my life, you will accept my plan for my life because that's what it is; MY life. Not yours. If you can't accept that, then I want you out. Do not write me, do not visit me, do not even think of trying to have Felix talk to me on your behalf. Because I am done, Gramp. I'm out."

Without waiting for his response, she stormed out of the Three Broomsticks.

She didn't look back. Not once. She wouldn't give her grandfather the satisfaction.

Hazel entered the Great Hall, which was abuzz with chatter about the latest task. She spotted her friends and waved at Veronica, who beckoned her. The bespectacled brunette was probably eager to know how her meeting with her grandfather went, and Hazel was eager to tell her.

Suddenly, a familiar broad chest blocked her path. She sighed and looked up, meeting Felix's gaze.

"So, he's told you has he? News travels fast." Her tone was brittle; she clenched her teeth.

"Oui, he has," a short silence fell between them and she tried to move past him but he grabbed her arm, "Please, Hazel, reconsider. We could make Nithercott's great together."

"I won't change my mind, Felix. I'm done with having my grandfather think he has a right to meddle in my life. The second those shares are mine they go to Leonard. You can work with Leonard, or you can leave the company. I no longer care." She wrenched her arm out of his grip and pushed him aside.

"You're making a mistake, Hazel! You'll regret this, I know it!" he called after her.

She paused in her tracks, pulling her wand out of her sleeve and spinning toward him.

"And you're talking out your ass, Felix!" she waved her wand and nonverbally cast a jinx on him.

The next time Felix opened his mouth, a grotesque fart noise resounded through the hall. The students in the hall went quiet, not quite sure what they'd heard. Felix turned bright red and covered his mouth, experimentally opening it again. Again, another disgusting fart sound echoed through the hall.

Fred and George were cackling like hyenas with the rest of the hall, as Madame Maxime hurried over to chastise Felix. Hazel sat between them and each one held up their hands for a high five.

"Hazel, you're a genius!" George exclaimed.

"You _must_ teach us that charm!" Fred begged, accepting her high five.

"No way! You two would use it for evil purposes, while I only use it for good." She explained, reaching for some fried cod.

The twins scoffed but Veronica was quick to pipe up with Hazel's defense. "It was to get her grandpa's crony off her back, boys. I'm sure if it were a life-or-death situation, she would teach it to you."

"Yes, but only in a life-or-death situation." Hazel chimed in before diving into her food. This sparked a debate on what kind of life or death situation would call for a fart voice charm to save the day. Hazel remained quiet, soaking in the conversation between her friends.

She glanced to her right, where Fred was sitting. Having him back in her life made it feel as though a huge weight had lifted off her psyche. It didn't occur to her until about two weeks after their heart-to-heart, but she had really missed him. Sure, she'd had George and George was a great friend, but Fred was something wholly different. George was a calm river; Fred was a waterfall. George was "Here Comes the Sun"; Fred was "Helter Skelter." George was the potential energy; Fred was the kinetic.

Hazel had needed Fred's raw energy to finally tell off her grandfather. There was something about Fred that galvanized and motivated her. She didn't know quite what the feeling in the pit of her stomach was, but she knew it was something like affection. She wouldn't act on it for now, she just enjoyed having him back and didn't want to ruin everything…again.

Fred was back in her life to stay.

That thought made her happier than she'd been in months.

* * *

 **I apologize for my long absence, but I've been working on a comedy webseries called The Lair, set to premiere in May! It's basically The Office but with Supervillains, and it's absolutely hilarious! Find it on Instagram and Facebook.**

 **We are very close to The Battle of Hogwarts, as I plan on wrapping this up within 3 or 4 chapters. Does Fred live or die? Does Hazel survive? I plan on finishing up GoF before I post the ending. Thanks for stopping by, please leave a review!**

 **XOXO - Leggomymeggo92**


	31. The End Part I: Three Years Gone

**I'm afraid I lied. I was going to write another chapter to wrap up GOF before this, but I just need to be finished with Hazel and her story.**

 **I hope you all enjoy this chapter, and I hope the timeline is relatively clear. It covers OOTP and HBP and most of DH, so there was plenty to cover.**

 **Thank you to all who have stuck with Hazel's story. It was a wonderful experience writing it for you all! (This in no way means I'm done writing and publishing on this site, I have a few new stories up my sleeve)**

 **So. Here is The End Part I: Three Years Gone**

* * *

 _May 2, 1998_

Hazel strode along the balcony overlooking the Transfiguration courtyard after completing the task set to her by Professor McGonagall. She had said her farewells to Hogwarts long ago, never expecting to see the castle in all its splendor and mystery and comforting hominess again.

Yet, here she was. Awaiting a battle.

The halls were quiet, in great contrast to the last time she'd been in the castle. Then it had been alive with students bustling about, saying their temporary goodbyes to their friends. She had been one of them, thinking she'd only be gone from the castle for the summer. Fully expecting to return in the fall, she hadn't gotten the chance to really figure how much she would miss her old school. She traced her fingers along the cold stone walls as she reminisced.

If it hadn't been for the events of the summer of 1995, she would've come back to Hogwarts for her seventh year and completed her education. If Julia hadn't left her father at the altar, if her father hadn't then fallen to pieces, she would've returned and her life would be wholly different.

But those things did happen. Hazel had to take up the running of the shop as well as caring for her father, who, it seemed to Hazel, had been overtaken by a dementor. He would stare off into space blankly, or simply lie on the sofa watching crap tv all day. Hazel had to make sure he ate regularly, and bathed, and she would help him tidy up his new flat above the store extension (which luckily was all finalized before she got home for summer break). She occasionally placated him with some calming and sleeping draughts, but he'd insisted on getting help the Muggle way. In October of that year, he'd started seeing a therapist.

Her decision to cease her magical education was also motivated by her anger at her grandfather. Felix had moved into her grandparent's house the week after the term ended, and had begged her to reconsider giving her shares to Leonard. She remained rooted in her position. When her grandfather retired, her shares would go to Leonard. And when her grandfather had learned about her decision to remain with her father at the shop instead of going back to Hogwarts for her final year, he had officially ceased all communication with her. In the last three years, she'd only heard from her grandmother and even then, it was a short letter at Christmastime.

No one had been pleased with her decision, least of all the Twins. She and Fred had just gotten back to being friends (the boys were in attendance at Daniel's failed wedding), and everything had seemed to going well for the three of them. George was blissfully happy with Angelina, Hazel had gotten revenge on her grandfather for meddling in her affairs, and Fred was brainstorming more ideas for Weasley's Wizard Wheezes daily.

"Magic isn't just a gift, Hazel, it's a responsibility!" Fred had argued with her. He'd floo'd to her flat the second he'd received her letter explaining the situation.

"What about my responsibility to my father! He's not going to get better before term starts, Fred, and he's in no state to care for himself, let alone run his shop! Lisa and Steve are moving to Brighton, he'll be all alone! I can't just leave him! He's my father!" she'd yelled at him. "You think I made this decision lightly? I know what I'm giving up! My dreams of being a Curse Breaker are gone now because of that- that indecisive bitch! She left us, Fred, and now everything's a bloody mess!"

And a difficult decision it had been. In truth, Julia's departure had not only broken her father's heart, it had broken Hazel's as well. In order to take care of herself and her father, she had given up her dream of ever being a curse-breaker or really anything in the magical world, instead settling for the world in which she grew up. What she had always considered an advantage, having basically her pick of work post-Hogwarts, was now gone. She had made her choice. She would remain in her father's shop.

In the downtime she gained when her father's mental stability returned in the winter of 1995, Hazel would stroll around Diagon Alley. Partly out of boredom, partly because Dumbledore had asked her to keep an eye on the happenings outside Hogwarts, and partly so she could hop a bus and visit Sirius, who was (reluctantly) back at his parent's house in Grimmauld Place. It was on one of these reconnaissance walks that she noticed a building at the far corner of the street. The windows were dark, and a 'For Sale' sign hung on the door.

She had written the boys at Hogwarts, knowing that they had been looking for a storefront. She didn't hear anything back for weeks, so she put down a deposit on the building with the money from her mother's inheritance. Over Christmas, she'd pulled the boys aside at Grimmauld Place and given them the keys. Fred was so happy he had kissed her, apologizing almost immediately. However, the tension was instantly dissipated when George went in for a comically loud smack on the lips as well.

That was the start of their business relationship. Over the next months, Hazel split her time nearly evenly between the new Wheezes shop and Herrod's. Her father was ecstatic for her new opportunity. She opened the Wheezes' bank account at Gringotts, transported stock from the Burrow and Grimmauld Place, and helped set up the office. When the boys defected from Hogwarts, all three of them began setting items on shelves (which the boys loathed), and Hazel taught them how to log purchases and count out deposits (which they loathed even more).

"You know, Hazel, we've been thinking." George said to her the night before the opening. They were at Hazel's flat in York; Daniel had made them all a "best of luck tomorrow" dinner. Her father had retired to his own flat next door a while ago, and she knew they should all get some sleep for the big day, but they all seemed too wound up to do anything else but sip firewhiskey and chat.

"You have? That's new," she stated, her eyes watching the firewhiskey swirl in her glass.

"We think it would be best if you handle the...financial aspects of the shop." Fred said tentatively.

She looked up at them, noting the hope in both pairs of eyes. She couldn't help but flip her hair over her shoulder and say, "You couldn't afford me."

George, who had taken a sip of firewhiskey, nearly choked on his laughter. Fred smirked.

"You've been working with us for months for free, what's a few more? C'mon, Haze. We can't do it without you." He placed a hand on her knee and looked her straight in the eye with a pleading look and she knew she was done for.

So, for the last two years, Hazel had been the head accountant and office-keeper for one of the most successful shops in Diagon Alley. The boys paid her incredibly well, but she still kept her flat above her father's shop and floo'd into work.

During this time, dark magic was once again loosed upon the world. Hazel was the first member of the Order of the Phoenix under the age of twenty to join this time around, as she had joined when she dropped out of Hogwarts. She made fast friends with Tonks, and the two often patrolled together. She'd encouraged her new friend's relationship with Remus Lupin, having a particular insight into the man's psyche through her mother's old diaries.

With her work in the wizarding community and for the Order, she couldn't ignore the possibility that her Muggle father could become a target. Seeing how Voldemort had used Sirius against Harry was the cause for her concern, and her father would have no defense against a powerful dark wizard. Shortly after Sirius' death in July of 1996 she closed Herrod's Rare Books and Manuscripts ("Closed Until Further Notice" the sign in the window read) and put her father on a plane to Chicago after obliviating his memories. A friend of Kingsley's in MACUSA would get him off the plane and implant false memories before escorting him to his new home.

It was the most difficult thing she'd ever done. Luckily, Fred had been in her flat waiting for her return. He spent that evening with her, wiping away her tears and holding her close; reassuring her that she had done the right thing. Daniel was safer where he was. That night Fred had tucked her into bed, pausing to brush a stray lock of hair out of her face. As he turned to leave he felt her hand grip his wrist.

"Don't leave. Please." her voice, weak and hoarse from hours of sobbing, pleaded from under her blanket. He climbed into the small bed next to her, and she immediately cuddled as close to him as humanly possible, noting how right and how safe she felt. Even with the world falling to pieces around her, even now that she had next to no family left, she still had Fred. That night a small flame lit up the dark, empty chasm that had opened in her chest.

But if he had read anything romantic into that encounter, he didn't let on. His demeanor the next day at work, and everyday after that, was congenial. Friendly. Not indicative of anything more than their previous friendship.

That was how their relationship remained amid the war. Business was booming, so there were lots of things to occupy Hazel's mind. She would occasionally find tokens of affection on her desk, and she never doubted whom they were from. A bouquet of daisies after a particularly rough day, a hot cup of tea and biscuits waiting for her when she arrived in the morning. He never left a note, but she knew something had shifted.

One day, the wristwatch he'd received from his parents upon turning fifteen (a wizard tradition, apparently), had suddenly stopped working. He brushed it off; declaring he could just buy another one, but Hazel could see it bothered him. To return his favors, she was up half the night trying to fix it. The next morning she left it on his desk in a wooden box with an ostentatious red bow.

She stayed behind at The Burrow during the Battle of Seven Potters. Wrapped in a sweater, staring up at the night sky, she paced the property line. Her mind wouldn't slow down, imagining every possible scenario leading to Fred's death. It was during her third turn about the yard that she came slamming to a stop at a realization. That tiny flame that had reignited over a year prior had turned into a raging inferno.

She was in love with Frederick Fabian Weasley. Again. Or possibly still?

She didn't have time to delve deeper into the sudden onslaught of emotions, as Remus Lupin appeared, hoisting an injured Weasley Twin. Ginny helped them into the house, Hazel following close behind. She helped Molly clean up George's wound before going back outside to wait for more of the Order to return. When Fred arrived with his father, he immediately wrapped Hazel in a hug.

He pulled back and it only took one glance into her eyes for him to know something was wrong. She looked toward the house and Fred and Arthur took off at a run.

Hazel had stayed at The Burrow to help with the wedding festivities and attended Bill and Fleur's wedding, fleeing back to the relative safety of her flat when Kingsley's patronus arrived. She made herself some tea and tried to forget about the last week's stress and anxieties and had just began to calm down when she heard a 'pop' in her living room.

"HAZEL BLOODY HERROD!" Fred's voice boomed, his footsteps thudding down the hall to her bedroom. She heard the door of her room clang open as he cried her name again.

She stepped out of the kitchen and they made eye contact. He was disheveled, panting slightly, and leaning against the doorframe to her room. In four long steps he crashed into her, enfolding her in his arms, clutching her to him as he had never done before.

"I thought you'd go to the shop. You weren't there. When you didn't turn up I...I thought..." he muttered into her hair and her heart broke upon hearing the panic in his voice. She returned his embrace.

She pulled away slightly and looked him in the eyes, "I'm sorry."

The look in Fred's eyes at that moment was one she had seen before, but she couldn't quite place it. However, as quickly as she had noticed it, it disappeared and he backed away from her. It was as if a switch flipped in his brain, because he bid her farewell like he did at the shop. Congenial, friendly, and in full recognition of their employee/employer relationship.

Things returned to relative normalcy after that; attending Order meetings, always checking over her shoulder, replacing the protective spells over her flat and the empty shop below. Living under the threat of Lord Voldemort wasn't easy, but Hazel had felt she made the best of it. She even appeared on Lee Jordan's radio show a few times under the name "Rowan." Things were foreboding, but one learned to set the existential worry aside and go about the day.

She was in the middle of the week's payroll that evening when they'd received the call from the Order. George had bounded up the stairs, told her to grab her wand, and meet them downstairs.

It was here.

The Battle of Hogwarts.

Everyone was at their appointed places. Waiting. The night sky was illuminated with protective spells and everything was eerily calm as Hazel approached the Twins.

"What are you boys talking about?" she asked, wedging her way in the small space between them.

"Where to build our summer home. Fred insists on Greece, but I'm set on the Caribbean." George joked, his signature smirk cracking the nervous facade.

"Seems a sensible enough conversation." she said, resting her forearms on the banister and looking up at the sky.

They were silent for a second as they watched the dark magic destroy the protective barrier above them. A few explosions and shouts were heard coming from the direction of the front gate and Hazel rose to her full height.

"Here goes nothing." She said, hoping her voice didn't waver as much as she thought it did.

Fred put a hand on her shoulder and turned her to face him, "If this is my last chance to say it, Hazel, I - "

His confession was interrupted with the sound of an explosion much nearer than they expected, and they all started running toward it. Two Death Eaters were waiting for them at the end of the hall. Hazel let fly curses almost faster than she could think of them, a twin on either side of her doing the same.

She could hear her blood pumping through her brain; her limbs made concise movements despite the fact that she felt her bones had turned to jelly. She had been working on a few new jinxes and curses for this exact occasion, and now she knew exactly which one to use.

"Shield your eyes!" she shouted at the boys.

"What?" George yelled back.

"Cover your eyes!" she repeated. The boys each shot a spell to incapacitate their opponents long enough for them to duck their eyes behind their elbows.

"Flashbang!" she shouted, looking away from the Death Eaters as a bright flash of light and a loud 'BANG' emanated from the tip of her wand. When the dust settled they all looked up and the Death Eaters were on the ground, one of them was groping around for his dropped wand, another was on her back yeowling in pain as she ripped off her mask.

Hazel didn't have time to discover the Death Eater's identity, as Fred had grabbed her hand and started running toward another part of the castle.

"Hazel!" she heard a familiar voice shout, and from the corner of her eye she caught sight of a short brown crop of hair and cat-eye glasses. She stopped in her tracks, the momentum jerking Fred to a stop.

"Bloody hell, woman!" Fred exclaimed, "You nearly ripped my arm out of the socket! I'd like to earn my injuries, thank you very much!"

But Hazel didn't hear him. She was too busy running toward Veronica, her best friend whom she hadn't seen in nearly two years. Once she'd graduated Hogwarts and her parents' divorce was finalized, Veronica had dumped Robert and moved to China to live with her brother (much to Hazel's shock and dismay). They'd kept up correspondence over the years, but it hadn't been the same. Hazel was ecstatic to see Veronica again, and immediately enveloped her best friend in her arms.

"What are you doing here? You live in China, you daft woman!" she teased as she let her friend go. Veronica had been standing in a small group of young Aurors (whom she'd befriended while they'd been undercover in China), and fished in her pocket for a moment and extracted a galleon coin, one that Hazel knew had been used by Dumbledore's Army.

"I got the message and floo'd here as soon as I could." Veronica twirled the coin in between her fingers like a street magician and Hazel giggled.

"You never cease to amaze me, Veronica."

"Hazel, come on!" George yelled.

"When this is over, we need to catch up!" Hazel tossed over her shoulder as she jogged back to the boys, "I've bloody missed you!"

"I've missed you too! Good luck!" Veronica shot back, blowing Hazel a kiss as she turned back to her Auror friends.

Her encounter with Veronica was a cheery break amidst the chaos. It seemed there would be no end to the shouting, or the flashing lights of curses and hexes being thrown every which way, or the acrid smell of something burning. Fred had taken her hand again and was leading her toward what she knew to be one of the outer walls of the castle.

Out of nowhere Angelina come bounding up to them, her dark braids bouncing all about her face.

"George, you've got to come quick!" she said once she got to them. She was out of breath and looked exhausted, "Some of the Ravenclaw first years tried to stay back…some Death Eaters…have them in a corner…"

Without a second's hesitation, George nodded at his brother and Hazel and disapparated with Angelina.

The castle gave a great shake and Hazel lost her balance, falling into Fred's arms. She tried to right herself, but he held her there and tilted her chin up, staring her straight in the eye.

"Hazel, I love you. If we both survive this, I'm gonna marry you." He said with such conviction that Hazel knew it to be true. To say that this confession surprised her was an understatement; she was appalled, stunned, astonished.

All she could stammer out in response was, "Uh…okay…"

"Now that's the Hazel Herrod eloquence I've come to know and love." He joked as he placed a kiss on her forehead before releasing her.

Out of nowhere, another crop of red hair appeared. Percy, whose horn-rimmed glasses sat askew on his nose, looked a bit paler than usual.

"Percy? What's happened?"

"Do you not feel the tremors? They've got giants! _GIANTS_! Can you believe it? After all that the Ministry has done to - " the elder Weasley shouted, but was cut off by a jinx attacking the statue behind him.

Hazel and Fred turned just in time to see three Death Eaters approaching them, all three men judging by the bulk of their robes, all three shouting curses. And so, once more, Hazel found herself dodging curse after curse in a seemingly endless stream, when she noticed twice as many stunning spells coming from their side.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione had joined them, each one looking a little singed. Hermione shouted something about Fiendfyre as Percy knocked one of the Death Eater's masks off, revealing none other than the puppet Minister Pius Thicknesse.

"Hello Minister!" Percy shouted as his transfiguration jinx started to take effect, "Did I mention I'm resigning?"

Hazel barked out a laugh as she and Ron subdued the Death Eater intent on attacking her. Within moments, three jets of light felled the remaining assailant.

"You're joking, Perce!" Fred shouted from her right and she looked over at him. The smile on his face radiated joy, even though they were in the heat of battle. "You actually _are_ joking, Perce! I don't think I've heard you joke since you were – "

Suddenly, Hazel felt a blast that knocked her to the side, away from the outer wall. She landed on her hands and knees, the palms of her hand torn by the bits of rock and plaster that littered the floor. Her ears were ringing and her vision was blurred, but she looked up just in time to see the wall behind a somehow still standing Fred start to collapse in on him.

"No! Umbrellum!" she screamed, nearly launching her wand toward him. The spell was only designed to keep water and snow at bay, and she could only hope it was strong enough to withstand the weight of the falling bricks. Because she couldn't bear the thought that it couldn't.

She started to rise to her feet, to assess the success of her small protective spell, only to be knocked down again as pain tore across her back and a bright white light flashed in her peripheral vision.

All the sounds faded and her body grew colder. Off in the distance she heard her name…she became aware of a body crouching next to hers and the pain subsided a bit, but she was still cold…breathing was difficult…her vision tunneled…

And Hazel's world went black.

* * *

 **AAHHHH Cliffhanger!** **There will be a Part II, don't worry! Let me know what you thought in a review and I'll get it out faster!**

 **Much love, Meghan**


	32. The End Part II: Devious

**So. Here it is. The End.**

 **Thank you to everyone who made it this far with me. It means more to me than you know.**

* * *

May 3, 1998

Hazel's mind awoke before the rest of her body could catch up. It started with her hearing, but everything sounded muffled as if she had cotton stuffed in her ears. She could feel the sheets on top of her, the bed beneath her, and the pillow under her cheek; she was laying on her stomach. She felt a pain emanating from the left side of her back and face, but couldn't immediately tell why. Her eyes shot open but almost immediately closed against the bright white light of the room around her.

"She's waking up!" a voice said in the distance. Or perhaps it was right next to her, she couldn't tell. All she could feel was the metallic taste of panic rise in her mouth as she attempted to thrash about. The room she'd caught a brief glimpse of was too white and had partially blinded her.

"Hazel, Hazel, dear, can you hear me?" an all-too familiar voice said. This one was clear as a bell. She felt a hand stroke her hair and dared to open her eyes again, this time squinting them to allow her pupils time to adjust to the light.

Hazel's lips broke into a smile as she saw Molly Weasley's worried face looking down at her, the woman's kind hearted smile welcoming her back to the world of the waking. Dirt and soot filled lines of her face and she looked weary, as if she hadn't slept in a while but her warm expression didn't betray a thing. Her daughter Ginny stood on the other side of the bed, looking much the same as her mother.

"M-Molly, Ginny...wh-what happened?" She croaked. Her throat was dry and scratchy, as if she'd inhaled smoke from a bonfire.

No…not a bonfire…not smoke…ash from a crumbling wall. Fred standing underneath it. An angry white light flashing in her peripheral vision…

"Well, dear, you're in St. Mungo's. The battle is over, you-kno…Voldemort is gone. You lost a lot of blood, love, so they're giving you some blood replenishing potion and you got a bit torn up. They say your face shouldn't scar, but your back…" Molly tried to explain, but found herself at a loss for words. Hazel had become a regular face at The Burrow in the last two years, and Molly hated seeing her like this as much as she would've hated seeing any of her children in such a state.

"You were hit with a slashing curse. It wasn't healed well enough in time to prevent scarring." Ginny offered, taking the pressure off her mother.

"Well that explains the twinge," Hazel tried to joke, but her words came out bitter. "Molly, where is everyone? Are they okay?" she croaked again as she tried to push herself up.

"Lie flat, dear. They had to resort to that Muggle solution to close your wounds, the same one they tried on Arthur a while back…scritches?" Molly put a hand on her shoulder to stop her from rising.

"Stitches, mum." Ginny supplied. Upon mothering instinct, Molly reached for the cup of water on the table next to her bed and held it so Hazel could drink. It wasn't until then that Hazel realized her mouth tasted like brick dust and felt just as dry. The water was a welcome relief.

"Harry killed Voldemort and then we started evacuating people to Saint Mungo's by priority. Luckily, Percy got you mostly fixed up before-" she paused, staring blankly into space as if just remembering something. Her eyes glazed over and she looked away, taking a step toward the door and turning her back on Hazel.

Ginny took up the explanation then, "You'd lost a lot of blood but Madame Pomfrey had just enough replenishing potion to spare to give you a few hours before seeking medical attention. She put some dittany on your back, but it was too late to prevent scarring. He - Percy, that is, didn't have time to heal it fully, you see."

"Why not?" Hazel asked gently, reaching for the cup herself now. Molly's sudden reaction and something in the way Ginny said her brother's name gave Hazel a bad feeling in her gut. She knew something was wrong.

"The boys are getting checked up, bumps and bruises all around mostly, a few broken bones here and there, but they should be here any second!" the older woman had turned back around, her voice holding a false cheer that Hazel could tell was a cover up for something much worse.

"Molly, what happened to Percy?" Hazel demanded as she pushed herself on her right arm, the stitches in her back pulling in a most uncomfortable way. Luckily, the skin was still mostly numb, but the muscles underneath it were sore and that's what made Hazel have to lower herself back down to the bed with a painful groan. Molly's lower lip quivered and her eyes became moist with tears.

She cleared her throat and averted her eyes to the floor. "He died…while he was healing you, someone caught him unawares and hit him with the killing curse." She said just above a whisper.

Hazel let her head fall back against the pillow, feeling as if a lead brick had been dropped onto her stomach from a high height. Percy; stalwart, rule-abiding, no-nonsense Percy, whom they had just gotten back into the fold, was dead because of her.

Hazel felt the bile rise in her throat and leaned over the side of the bed just in time as she emptied the contents of her stomach on the floor, the retching making her back cry out in pain. She hadn't eaten anything since she didn't know when, how long had she been out? A few hours, a day at most, if Molly and Ginny were still dirty and battle-weary.

Ginny reached across the bed, pulling Hazel's hair out of her face. Molly poked her head out into the hall and called for a healer. When she received no response, Molly stormed out into the hallway, dragging a young, flustered healer into the room a moment later.

With a twitch of his wand, he pulled up Hazel's vital signs. "Hmm…your blood pressure is a little high, but your pulse is fine. No fever, that's a good sign. We'd like to keep you for observation, make sure those stitches don't get infected, and I'll get you a stomach settling potion for your nausea and a sedative. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got other patients."

Hazel didn't wait until the healer was gone to ask the question that had been pressing on her mind like a foot on the gas pedal of a car, "What about the others? Fred, George?"

Molly smiled, "Fred and George are fine, they're downstairs with Arthur. George dislocated his shoulder and Fred's got some scrapes and a broken wrist, but other than that they're fine. Percy was the only one who…well, you know."

Hazel let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding, "I'm so sorry, Molly."

She stared up at the ceiling, stubbornly willing the tears away. "It wasn't your fault, dear. It was war." She patted Hazel's hand comfortingly, but something in Hazel's mind snapped and, with those three words, all of the stresses and anxieties of the last few years came pouring out.

 _It was war._

She buried her face in the pillow and didn't attempt to stop the tears. Two separate hands landed gently on her back, and she could hear Molly and Ginny sniffling along with her.

Soon enough, a nurse came in with the anti-nausea potion and dreamless sleep tonic for her, and Hazel drank greedily. Not long after that, she was asleep.

* * *

 _December 24, 2001_

Hazel Herrod couldn't sleep. She was at The Burrow, in Charlie's old room, awaiting the Christmas party the next day. After the third cup of peppermint tea, she'd stopped trying to fall asleep and sat in the window alcove, watching the moon traverse the inky black sky above her.

Her knees were tucked up into her chest. The ring on her left hand caught the moonlight and she looked down at it wistfully. A London blue topaz surrounded by a circle of tiny diamonds, a silver band with engraved vines. Yes, her fiancée had exceptional taste in jewelry. He was asleep two floors below her and she let out a long sigh.

Despite the fact that she and Fred had been living together for over a year, Molly and Arthur insisted that they sleep in separate bedrooms at The Burrow. It was more than a little silly, since Headmistress McGonagall let them cohabitate at Hogwarts even though they weren't married. Hazel had taken over as the Charms professor when Professor Flitwick retired the year before, and Fred ran the Hogsmeade Weasley's Wizard Wheezes shop. They had taken over the room they had once used for their trysts, expanding it when it got too cramped. Molly kept dropping heavy-handed hints that Hazel and Fred should just set a date and get married already so they could sleep in the same room.

It was that thought that had Hazel unable to sleep. While on one hand she was annoyed with the thought of marriage and all of the stupid traditions that came with it, she was fully committed to Fred and wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. But with marriage came expectations. Having a baby, buying a house, having another baby, hosting dinner parties, on and on until they died. Hazel wasn't sure she wanted all of that on her shoulders. She had never pictured herself as a mother, more of the fun aunt (and, by marrying into the Weasley family, she was sure to have many nieces and nephews to spoil; Bill and Fleur were already expecting their second child).

She and Fred had talked extensively about the topic of children. Fred, who had always been on the fence about kids of his own, agreed with many of her points. And really, who would be a better "Fun Uncle" than Fred Weasley? They decided that, if the day came that they changed their minds, they would cross that bridge when they came upon it. Until that time, they would enjoy each other and their rapidly-expanding extended family.

The question that had her up in the wee hours of the morning; how could she marry Fred without all of the hoopla? A Weasley wedding was not a small affair (Ron and Hermione's wedding in the spring was set to have no fewer than five courses, a six tier cake, and nearly 150 guests), which made Hazel uncomfortable. Perhaps it was her father's own spoiled wedding that made her uneasy, she couldn't be sure.

She thought of her parents' wedding. According to her father, her mother had snuck into his room at his parent's house when they were eighteen and swept him off to Cardiff. They said their vows on the beach as the sun set. True, Laurel had been five months pregnant with Hazel, hence the rush job on the wedding. But it was no less romantic.

Then it clicked. Hazel knew exactly what she had to do. The clock on the wall read 4:37 am. Just a few hours until sunrise. Perfect.

Hazel unwound from her seat on the window ledge, her back protesting her sudden movement. She paused and stood still, pressing her fingers into fists and waiting for the pain to pass with deep breaths. While her wounds had healed, the scars remained, jagged and mottled across her back. The muscles underneath would sometimes seize up, another reminder of the war's lasting effects. If it got bad enough it would radiate through her front side and cause severe nausea, or make every movement so painful she wouldn't be able to get out of bed. Those days, Fred would take over her teaching duties and when she got back, she was met with sullen faces and tones that suggested her students would much prefer her fiance.

Once the deep ache subsided, she crept into George and Angelina's room across the hall. She nudged her friend awake, and the ebony goddess waved away her hand.

"Ang, c'mon, wake up." Hazel shook her harder. Angelina turned over and blinked blearily at Hazel.

"Hazel, everything alright?" she asked through a yawn.

"Everything's great. Wake up George and meet me downstairs." Hazel whispered urgently, handing Angelina her dressing gown.

"Why? What's going on?"

"Fred and I are getting married." Hazel clamped a hand over Angelina's mouth before she could yelp in surprise and wake half the house, "He doesn't know it yet. But we've put it off long enough, yeah?"

"You sure as bloody hell have! We'll be there in two shakes." Angelina smiled brightly and started shaking her slumbering husband awake.

Hazel smiled as she closed the door to their room and made her way down the two flights of stairs as quietly as she could.

Fred's room was much the same as when she'd first seen it. Two beds pushed together in the middle of the room, two desks covered with papers against either wall, a box of fireworks in the corner (although this time they were there for Molly-approved purposes).

Fred's long limbs were splayed out across the two beds, one foot lazily hanging off the side. Clearly, he was making the most of the absence of another body in his bed. Hazel approached and tickled the bottom of the exposed foot, which earned her a grunt and the foot moving a few inches away. She tried again with the same result before moving up to his shoulder and giving it a good shake.

He awoke with a horrendous harrumph, as he always did. "Whazzit? Hazel? 'Zat you?" he asked, raising his head from the pillow.

"Hi love. Get up and put your shoes on." She said gently, brushing his ginger hair off his forehead.

"Why?" he whined. "Bed's warm. Why don't you join me?" She could hear the wink in his voice.

Hazel smirked, "I'd love to, but it's time you made good on your promise."

He groaned, rubbing his face in his pillow, "Which promise?"

"The one before the Battle."

That got his attention and he sat bolt upright in the bed, like a dog that had been offered a bone. "Really?"

"Yeah."

"Right now? It's the middle of the night."

"Kinda the best time, don't you think?" she smirked at him and he put a hand on the back of her neck, drawing her closer until their foreheads touched. His brown eyes met her blue ones.

"You are devious and I love it," he declared to the empty room. He pecked her forehead and dashed out of the bed. As he moved toward the closet she grabbed his wrist.

"And just where do you think you're going?"

"To get clothes."

"Um, no. If I'm getting married in my pajamas, you are too."

Fred's smile widened. "I love you, you're aware of that right?"

"I love you too. Now grab your shoes, let's get this show on the road!"

The two twosomes apparated to a lake in Scotland that Angelina's parents had taken her to when she was young, Loch Duich. After Hazel and Fred approved the gorgeous lakeside setting, complete with a medieval castle reflecting in the black waters, George set about writing a ceremony while the rest of them got as many trappings for the wedding as they could. Before Bill and Fleur's wedding, George had become a wedding officiant via the Ministry of Magic. He'd filled out the paperwork mostly as a joke, but Hazel could tell he was disappointed when the couple chose to use another officiant.

They were married as the sun was rising. Hazel held a bouquet of wildflowers Angelina conjured up. The winter wind off the lake whipped at their coats and hair and carried their vows over the rolling hills. It was cold. It was damp. It was perfect.

Afterwards, they sat in the small pub waiting for an extremely early breakfast. Hazel had never been happier as she sat next to Fred, not letting go of his left hand for anything. She looked over at him, a goofy grin on her face as she looked at her husband. Fred Weasley was her husband. After all this time, all the heartache and all the games, they were well and truly together.

She kissed his cheek as the champagne arrived. The server set out four flutes, but Angelina was quick to push hers away.

"None for me thanks. I'll stick with juice." She said as breezily as possible.

"Why not, Ang, you pregnant or something?" Fred joked as he took his first sip.

Angelina's cheeks reddened and she slid her hand into her husband's. George beamed at her, but said nothing. Hazel looked between the two of them and immediately knew what she was about to confess.

"Well, yeah," she admitted, "We were going to wait until the party tonight to tell everyone but…we're pregnant!"

"Oh Merlin, guys! That's great!" Hazel exclaimed. "How far along?"

"Nearly three months."

Fred stood up, dropping Hazel's hand and moving next to his brother, pulling him into a hug that was full of brotherly affection and Hazel's heart swelled for them.

"Who's the one having gorgeous half-black ginger babies now, mate?" Fred teased as he pulled out of the hug and clapped his brother on the back. From the corner of her eye, she saw Fred swipe tears out of each of his eyes. He dropped his hand and recaptured hers, bringing it up to gently kiss her knuckles.

"Wow…Molly is going to have a conniption when she finds all of this out." Hazel commented. Fred and George looked at each other, their faces going pale as the server placed their breakfasts in front of them.

"Oh calm down, you two. I'm sure she'll be too thrilled to pummel you both into the ground." Angelina dismissed, picking up her fork and diving into her waffle.

Each of the boys let out a sigh. Hazel could tell that Fred was still nervous about telling his mother they'd eloped. She was just as nervous about telling her father the same thing. After she'd healed, she and Fred traveled to Chicago and lifted the memory charm she'd placed on her father. Once the fog in her father's mind cleared, Fred had asked him for his blessing. Daniel returned to Herrod's Rare Books and Manuscripts, and was doing better than ever. Recently, he'd met Janine, a bookseller from Hull, and had asked her out. After getting left at the altar, he was taking things slow. Like turtle-racing-a-glacier slow, but Hazel was happy for him. She knew he wouldn't be pleased that she'd eloped, but he would be happy that she was happy.

And she was. For the first time in her life she felt that she knew exactly who she was. She was Fred's wife. She was the Charms professor at Hogwarts. She was the daughter of Daniel and Laurel Herrod. She was a brilliant, talented witch who had survived the Second Wizarding War when so many others hadn't.

She was Hazel Motherfucking Herrod-Weasley.

And in that perfect moment, all was well.

* * *

 **Leave me a review! If you want, I have other stories on my profile and I'll be posting a Sirius Black/OC story within the next few weeks. Stay tuned!**

 **Again, thank you all so much for all of the support and patience and feedback for Hazel! I hope you enjoyed the ending!**


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